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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28582959">Everything Is Blue</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/trishabeakens/pseuds/trishabeakens'>trishabeakens</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 1991)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:40:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>26,595</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28582959</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/trishabeakens/pseuds/trishabeakens</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Kimbra Wulfe was the head of the project department at EcoTech. She finally had gotten the chance to have her project approved. Sadly, her boss, Dr. Ainsley denied letting her choose her own sponsor. The scientist has to deal with a sponsor that Ainsley picks for her and get the project finished in the upcoming months, so she can leave St. Canard.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>53</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Kimbra is my DWD OC who I've been meaning to tell her story for eight years now. (I have god awful anxiety about her and finally just forced myself to write her story/start sharing it.) More info and content of her is on my Instagram: trishabeakens. I'm not the best writer, but I figured this was the best and easiest way for me to tell her story. Hope at least someone likes it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Sir, <em> please </em>.” Kimbra pleaded as she accompanied her elderly boss down a lengthy corridor. </p><p>Despite the man's old age, Kimbra found it challenging to keep up with his pace. She maintained a brisk walk, almost a jog, to remain close behind. The sounds of her black high heels clicking against the white tile floor echoed off the walls. Her lab coat brushed against her legs as she continued walking. </p><p>Kimbra Wulfe lived and breathed science. Ever since she was a young pup, the world around her filled her with awe and wonder. </p><p>That's why she worked for EcoTech. The leader in modern technology (or at least they consider themselves as such).</p><p>Dr. Ainsley, a green reptilian creature, established the company over forty years ago. EcoTech's purpose was to produce eco-friendly tech—to help the environment—and most important of all; to serve those in need. Kimbra admired that the doctor spent so much of his time and wealth into EcoTech's cause. He never married nor had children, so he preoccupied his days with work. </p><p>Kimbra wished she could be more like him. Someone smart and successful who expressed no regards to those who doubted them. All she ever did was doubt herself and make endless mistakes.</p><p>
  <em> Rookie mistakes. </em>
</p><p>The mistakes that risked the lives of those around you. The mistake of <em> almost </em> mixing chlorine trifluoride with water because you rushed to finish cleaning the semiconductors. It was only her first month at the company, but Kimbra should have known better. </p><p>Dr. Ainsley caught it and merely laughed the incident off. He became Kimbra's mentor when she started interning at EcoTech during her last year of university. She often fought for his approval, grasping at any form of validation she could obtain. The young science-lover lived solely for her job.</p><p>
  <em> She was pathetic.  </em>
</p><p>Other EcoTech employees pushed their way through the crowding hallway, struggling to return to their respective workspaces. Chaos ensured as new projects were being introduced during the next several hours.</p><p>One of those many projects was Kimbra's—her entire life work.</p><p>After so many years of late nights and overtime, the scientist had her project accepted by the company's administration. The same group that sought to deny her promotion last year. She suspected Dr. Ainsley chose her side back then, insisting that the administrators grant her the job. EcoTech higher-ups always had it out for her. No matter how hard she worked, how many wonderful ideas she offered them, they were dissatisfied with her. Her peers always found success easier and swifter, yet it took her ages for her project to be recognized. </p><p>She never figured out why. Their treatment towards her seemed needlessly cruel.</p><p>
  <em> It wasn't fair. </em>
</p><p>On another depressing note, Kimbra could not choose her sponsor. All of EcoTech's projects had to be funded by an individual or corporation, as EcoTech couldn't cover the full cost. Kimbra thought it was unfair. They deserved the right to appoint their own sponsors. The administration refused to listen to her, only brushing her off as usual.</p><p>Kimbra hoped Dr. Ainsley would hear her out. This sponsor is what could make or break the project for her. A terrible choice may turn C.O.R.E into a sheer disaster.</p><p>And just another one of Kimbra's many mistakes.</p><p>“Sir, please…” She hurried to his side, matching his pace. “Let me choose the sponsor for C.O.R.E.”</p><p>Dr. Ainsley waved his scaly hand, brushing off the scientist as he unexpectedly stopped in front of the conference chamber. “Kimbra, I told you several times, we are doing this by the book as we always do.”</p><p>He suddenly peered into the room for a moment and back to her. “You are ready to present the C.O.R.E project, aren't you?”</p><p>His somber eyes gleamed behind his spectacles. They were full of optimism. Hope for a brighter future. She couldn't fail him, not after everything he's worked so hard for. </p><p>Kimbra paused, not wanting to abandon the current topic so quickly. “Yes I'm ready, but sir... this is my project! I should be the one that names my own sponsor! Especially if I have to work alongside them for the next several months.”</p><p>“Dr. Wulfe, it <em> may </em> be your project... but EcoTech is <em> my </em> company.” Dr. Ainsley told Kimbra firmly before disappearing into the conference room. </p><p>He would not listen this time. Dr. Ainsley put his foot down and sided with the administration. </p><p>
  <em> Perfect, just… just perfect. </em>
</p><p>Kimbra ran her fingers back through her purple hair as she sighed in defeat. </p><p>
  <em> I can't go through with this. What if I screw up and make a mockery of myself? Everyone will laugh, and you'll be known as a complete and utter failure.  </em>
</p><p>A loud male voice spoke up from behind her, pulling Kimbra out of her dreary thoughts. “Well, if it ain't the <em> prettiest </em> little thing in all of St. Canard!”</p><p>Kimbra smiled at the sound of the heavy southern accent as she turned around. In front of her stood an older white dog. He dressed in formal western attire, generally lighter colors with a black bolo tie. His aged face appeared warm and friendly.</p><p>“Now Mr. Barksdale... this is a <em> professional </em> environment.” Kimbra teased, feeling calmer about the project presentation now that an old acquaintance was here.</p><p>The gentleman only laughed at her comment as the two exchanged a brief hug. </p><p>Mr. Barksdale owned the Barksdale Water Bottle company—the most well-established brand in the city of St. Canard. They previously sponsored several of EcoTech's projects. Last year, Kimbra worked with Barksdale on the C.O.R.A.L project and found the CEO to be an absolute delight. He was charming and loved telling tales about his ranch back home. </p><p>And he cared about the environment as much as EcoTech did.</p><p>“Little birdy told me you went and got yourself a project!” Mr. Barksdale released her from his embrace and took a step backwards. His huge smile caused his bushy gray mustache to turn upwards at the ends. </p><p>“Yeah, I managed to talk those stuck ups in administration to approve C.O.R.E. I'm surprised they haven't fired me yet.” </p><p>“I wouldn't fret too much bout' them.” He patted her on the shoulder. “Say, you do know that I'm one of the endorsement choices?”</p><p>That made Kimbra's worries wash away. “Maybe Dr. Ainsley will choose you!” She eagerly spoke, appearing more confident in herself.</p><p>“Unless he goes with someone else.” Mr. Barksdale brought her back to reality.</p><p><em> True. </em>Ainsley liked to shake things up and him picking the same sponsor twice was highly impossible.</p><p>“Who's the other possibilities?”</p><p>“Lemme show you.” Mr. Barksdale peeked into the conference chamber. He ushered Kimbra to stand by his side. She stepped over and settled beside him, looking into the room full of individuals. It felt wrong to spy on them, but Mr. Barksdale didn't seem to mind.</p><p>“I'll give you a rundown of the other four. That fella over there,” Barksdale pointed over to a caramel colored ram in an olive green sweater. “That's Jamie Woodoff of Westwood Furniture. He's pretty nice, nothing much to say about him.”</p><p>The ram was chatting away with a petite blue bird. He said something to make her laugh. </p><p>“The little lady beside him,” Barksdale motioned to the bird. “That's Cassie Fletcher of Arctic Records. She's all business but has a soft heart.”</p><p>"Isn't that Brice Cawson's record label?”</p><p>Brice Cawson, one of the most influential rock stars at the time. That man made every woman in St. Canard swoon. Kimbra's friend group dragged her to a concert several years ago, and like everybody else, she turned into a fangirl.</p><p>Mr. Barksdale shook his finger at her. “Now don't you go in there fangirling over that sorry excuse for a musician.” </p><p>Kimbra held her hands up in defense. “Okay okay, I won't!” </p><p>
  <em> Well, she'd try not to at least. No promises. </em>
</p><p>Mr. Barksdale continued to point out everyone to Kimbra. “That's River Reiff.” He shifted their attention to an elegant, dark furred feline. “He owns the Rieff designer brand. He's a well-known fashion designer here in St. Canard. Kind of mysterious looking, but he's a pretty big nerd.” Mr. Barksdale laughed as he nudged Kimbra with his elbow. “Kinda like you, huh?”</p><p>So far, the possibilities looked reasonable. Kimbra could handle working with any of these four.</p><p>“And the last one is—”</p><p>
  <em> Oh. My. God. </em>
</p><p>A familiar character in a brown suit caught her eye. His black hair and assertive demeanor was easy to spot in a crowd.</p><p>“What the <em> hell </em> is Bud doing here?” Kimbra frowned, cutting off Barksdale as she watched the grayish brown hound chat away with Dr. Ainsley. </p><p>Anyone who had a television in St. Canard knew who Bud Flud was. He owned the Sparkling Crystal Pure Flud Water company and constantly ran commercials for his business. His slogans were annoyingly catchy and all he ever did was tell lies to market his water.</p><p>She found him revolting. A disgrace to modern science. </p><p>The thought of working with Flud was repugnant to her.</p><p>Mr. Barksdale was taken aback by her sudden hostility. “Wait... what's wrong with Flud?”</p><p>Kimbra looked back, stunned that Mr. Barksdale would defend another water salesman. “Isn't he one of your rivals?”</p><p>Mr. Barksdale let out a sincere laugh. “Darlin' I'd hardly consider Flud Water to be any sort of competition, but I consider Mr. Flud a pretty alright fella.”</p><p>Despite Barksdale's own opinion, Bud Flud was still a disgrace to St. Canard and Kimbra did <em> not </em> want him setting foot in her lab. </p><p>“He is not an 'alright fella.” Kimbra ranted. “He's a sleazy, selfish, capitalist who cares about no one but himself.”</p><p>Mr. Barksdale only raised an eyebrow at her. </p><p>Kimbra not noticing it at all, simply added on to her string of insults. “And his recent advertising campaign is a sham.”</p><p>Mr. Barksdale smirked. “You sound pretty hung up on Flud.”</p><p>“Don't you start.” She scolded him, not in the mood for taunting. “I want <em> nothing </em> to do with that pitiful excuse of a man.”</p><p>“Are you sure?”</p><p>She nodded, glaring back in Flud's direction. “He's a pompous ass who thinks he knows everything.”</p><p>Barksdale only chucked and patted the raging scientist on the back. “See ya inside.”</p><p>Mr. Barksdale then entered the conference room, leaving Kimbra alone in the barren hallway. The awkward silence caused her to overthink. The countless ways this all could go wrong whirled through her mind. </p><p>
  <em> Take a deep breath Kimbra. Relax. You got this. You didn't move thousands of miles from home to this junk of a city just to come out a failure. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Get in there and prove yourself. </em>
</p><p>Kimbra deeply inhaled as she pushed the door open, making her way into the room. No one paid her any attention as she strolled past to the end of the table. They became too caught up in their conversations with one another. </p><p>
  <em> Figures.</em>
</p><p>Kimbra cleared her throat. “Good afternoon everyone.” </p><p>The small group dropped their discussion and fixated on her. She positioned herself at the front of the room, beside a large presentation easel. A white cloth draped over it, covering up whatever information it held. Dr. Ainsley gave her a thumbs up in an attempt to reassure her.</p><p>It didn't help in the slightest.</p><p>“I'm delighted that you all could make it. I'm Dr. Wulfe, head of EcoTech's project department.”</p><p>“Don't forget the mottos, dear.” Dr. Ainsley chimed in. </p><p>Kimbra hated the mottos. EcoTech didn't need lame catchy phrases for them to market their ideas. According to Ainsley, they had to sell the idea of C.O.R.E to those five entrepreneurs. The only way to make her dream a reality was to play their game.</p><p>So catchy mottos it was. </p><p>Kimbra sighed and put on a phony smile. “Our company prides itself on working for a better tomorrow.”</p><p>She dramatically pulled the drape off the easel, revealing the blueprints and concept art for C.O.R.E. </p><p>“Here at EcoTech, your choice matters.” She stated, finishing EcoTech's motto as she let the white cloth fall to the floor.</p><p>In her opinion, the last line was a blatant lie. Your choice only counted if you were someone. Nothing the lower levels at EcoTech did ever matter unless it was a colossal screw up.</p><p>Kimbra pushed those thoughts aside, so she could present her work. “The Central Optical Reactor Entropy, or C.O.R.E as we fondly call it, is a breakthrough in modern science.”</p><p>She reached over and tapped the blueprint with her index finger, pointing out the individual parts. She had to simplify the presentation, as her guests didn't have degrees in science.</p><p>“The reactor core uses sunlight and neighboring molecules to generate energy,” Kimbra began her explanation.</p><p>The next several minutes she spent going over every detail of the C.O.R.E project—from the turbines to the smallest bolt. Kimbra's excitement grew the more she explained C.O.R.E. For so long had she waited to tell the world of her idea. One she so yearned to make a reality.</p><p>Kimbra concluded her presentation. “Any questions?”</p><p>There’s an achingly long silence. Apparently none of the executives had questions for her. Kimbra shifted her weight, counting on one of them to ask something. She ran out of things to mention, and standing there made her appear inexperienced. </p><p>
  <em> Someone for the love of god say something.  </em>
</p><p>Bud smiled warmly at Kimbra as he lifted his right hand, to her dismay. As much as she wanted to skip him, she couldn't. Dr. Ainsley would never trust her with a project again. She had to be fair. She had to answer whatever ridiculous question that the salesman would give her.</p><p>The scientist exhaled through clenched teeth. And put on a smile.</p><p>“Yes Mr. Flud?”</p><p>“So I was just wondering…” The canine began as he lightly tapped a pen against the table. “How exactly does this project benefit us?”</p><p>Kimbra's smile didn't last.</p><p><em> Of course the selfish capitalist needs to know how the project would benefit himself, </em> she thought.</p><p>Kimbra wished she could say it surprised her. </p><p>“Okay Mr. Flud,” She planted her hands on her hips as she explained. “Think about how costly it is to power your factory.”</p><p>That did it. Kimbra knew anything regarding his company would grab his attention.</p><p>Bud set the pen down and focused on Kimbra. “I'm listening.”</p><p>“Imagine if the project is successful. Imagine if we're able to make this accessible to every resident and building in St. Canard. The cost of powering your factory will go down by seventy percent.”</p><p>Bud leaned back in his chair, content with the answer. “Well sweetheart, I, for one, am sold on this little project of yours.”</p><p>“Of course you are.” Kimbra muttered under her breath, loud enough for only her to hear. Then she spoke up, “anyway that's our project, and I am more than happy to answer any remaining questions. Thank you for coming.”</p><p>Bud disappeared not long after the presentation had ended. The other four remained behind, taking a moment to speak with Kimbra or Dr. Ainsley. Kimbra felt relieved that Bud had taken off so soon. Maybe he lost interest in the project, and she never had to see him in person ever again.</p><p>
  <em> Maybe.  </em>
</p><p>After Jamie, Reiff, and Cassie departed from EcoTech, Mr. Barksdale approached Kimbra as she put away her presentation. He preferred to give the others a chance to speak with the brilliant young lady.</p><p>“Darlin' that is a mighty fine creation you got yourself.” The aged dog leaned against the table. “Color me impressed.”</p><p>Kimbra smiled. She appreciated his support. “Thank you, Mr. Barksdale.”</p><p>“Who do you think the doc will choose?”</p><p>Kimbra shrugged as she stacked papers together and set them back into a binder. “I don't care who Dr. Ainsley picks.”</p><p>Which now, Kimbra didn't mind who the sponsor turned out to be. Four of the potential sponsors appeared to be very solid choices. Each of them were successful in their own respective field. All of them were <em> somewhat </em> tolerable to talk to. She trusted Dr. Ainsley to make the appropriate decision for the company. He always made the right choice.</p><p>The scientist then remembered the last possible sponsor. The one she utterly despised. </p><p>Kimbra dropped one last comment to Mr. Barksdale before retreating upstairs to her office.</p><p>“As long as Dr. Ainsley's choice <em> isn't </em> Bud Flud.”</p><p>***</p><p>Three weeks after the C.O.R.E project presentation, EcoTech hosted a rather large birthday party for Dr. Ainsley. Now no one at the company knew how old the founder was, but they all assumed he was in his late seventies. The event was strictly formal wear, as Dr. Ainsley preferred those types of parties.</p><p>Kimbra desperately tried to get out of going. She made excuse after excuse to avoid attending. Dr. Ainsley told her she had to be there. Apparently, he had chosen the sponsor for C.O.R.E a few days prior. </p><p>Tonight, Kimbra would meet whoever that person would be. </p><p>The scientist stood at the entrance, glaring at her reflection in the glass door. Her curly purple hair hung off her shoulders. The red cocktail dress she found in her closet outlined her small figure. Kimbra didn't hate dressing up, that's the only fun part. What she hated was socializing with a crowd full of people. If she wanted to see any of them after work, she'd call them herself.</p><p>She didn't want to go in. It felt unnecessary, all the social events and parties did.</p><p>Kimbra let out a breath and stepped inside the fray.</p><p>Dozens of employees filled EcoTech's lobby. More strolled through the corridors, holding glasses of wine in their hands as they engulfed themselves in chat with their fellow man. Kimbra didn't want to speak with anyone. She dropped by to wish Dr. Ainsley a happy birthday and stick around for a minute. After that, she would immediately head home and eat ice cream on her kitchen floor as she had her third midlife crisis this week.</p><p>
  <em> Kimbra you're only in your twenties, you can't be having a midlife crisis now. </em>
</p><p>Standing by a table full of sweets stood a blue-haired feline and a slightly taller lion. Immersed in deep conversation, the two hardly noticed when the snow colored canine approached them. </p><p>“Well I'm surprised Miss I-Hate-Social-Events is here.” Neil snickered once he recognized her. His sun-soaked yellow mane for once had been neatly groomed. </p><p>Leslie elbowed him and tucked a strand of blue hair behind her ear. Neil Clawson, one of the technical engineers for EcoTech. He was always paired with Leslie Furberry for projects, as they formed an excellent team. </p><p>And Kimbra wanted the best. She persuaded Dr. Ainsley to let her have them on the C.O.R.A.L project. Kimbra never found it easy to make friends. She was introverted and antisocial. She had trust and abandonment issues. Yet somehow, someway, those two befriended her. </p><p>“Hey, I <em> had </em> to come.” Kimbra plucked a small red velvet cupcake from the table. “I'd feel awful if I skipped out on Dr. Ainsley's birthday party. Besides, he said a sponsor for C.O.R.E had been chosen, and I'd be introduced to them tonight.”</p><p>Leslie gasped, moving close by Kimbra. “Are you excited?”</p><p>“Eh, I don't really care that much.” She dipped her finger in the cupcake icing, eating it first. </p><p>Kimbra did care. </p><p>She cared too much.</p><p>Ten minutes later, another influential figure strode through those shiny glass doors. Someone who could talk his way out of any predicament. A man that once he had his eyes on something, he worked his tail off to get. The most well-known face of commercial television.</p><p>Bud Flud himself.</p><p>The sleazy CEO adjusted his blue tie and tucked it back into his suit. Elegant parties and crowds of people had never phased him. He was used to this sort of stuff. Sometimes Bud even hosted his own extravagant parties. </p><p>This was nothing unusual to him. </p><p>Bud felt out of place at the event. These individuals were scientists, not businessmen. They discussed physics and other nerd stuff that Bud could never comprehend. He was simply here for business.</p><p>
  <em> Now where was that old lizard? </em>
</p><p>“Ah, Mr. Flud!” Dr. Ainsley, out of nowhere, welcomed Flud with open arms. “I'm overjoyed you found time in your busy schedule for a tired old man like me.” He saw Bud walk in, and slipped away to greet him.</p><p>“Now Ainsley,” The black haired canine chuckled. “I can <em> always </em> spare time for a fellow businessman.”</p><p>The two exchanged a brief handshake. </p><p>“Let me introduce you to our lab boys.” Ainsley led Bud away from the entrance and to a group of ambitious men. </p><p>As they headed to them, Ainsley told Flud about their testing facility below EcoTech. St. Canard wouldn't grant him a permit to build EcoTech any higher, so instead, Dr. Ainsley built below ground.</p><p><em> He's honestly mad, </em> Bud told himself, questioning if taking the sponsorship offer was actually worth the trouble.</p><p>The lab boys were in deep conversation, something about quantum particles. One excitedly flared his arms around, while the others stared in awe. </p><p><em> What is wrong with these people? </em> Bud mentally asked, <em> were all the scientists here like this? </em></p><p>“This is Pete, Johnson, Mac, Julien, and—” Dr. Ainsley paused, noticing a member missing. “Hey, where's Craig?”</p><p>A mallard, who Bud assumed was Pete, spoke up. “Hospital, remember? Last week Mac shot him with the modular laser.”</p><p>Mac, an average looking duck, shot Pete a dirty look. The two then started arguing in the background. </p><p>“Ah,” The elderly reptile tapped the side of his head, remembering the incident. “I ought to tell that secretary of mine to send him flowers then.”</p><p>A long ramble about the facility and their experiments escaped his mouth. Once Ainsley had initiated a discussion on something, he usually found it impossible to find a stopping place. In the beginning, Bud was listening to him. Ainsley lost him when he got to the part about everyone in the facility needing to sign an NDA and waivers. </p><p>Just boring legal stuff.</p><p>Bud's eyes strayed to the other side of the room. The doctor's rambling faded out.</p><p>“I'll have someone give you a tour of the place tomorrow, alright?” Ainsley adds, not realizing that Bud had stopped listening to him.</p><p>No response.</p><p>Dr. Ainsley's eyes drifted over to the talkative proprietor beside him. Only now was Flud completely silent, somewhat in a daze. </p><p>He was watching Kimbra.</p><p>The CEO glanced to where Kimbra stood, talking away with her project team. A glass of wine rested in her left hand as she used the other to make slight gestures. The doctor glanced back at EcoTech's current project sponsor.</p><p>Bud was still watching Kimbra. </p><p>Of course, he knew why Bud held his view on Kimbra. She's attractive—Bud is a bachelor—so it wasn't hard to figure out.</p><p><em> Kimbra overworks herself anyway, </em> Ainsley told himself. <em> She could use a small breather. Get Bud to talk to her.  </em></p><p>Dr. Ainsley loudly cleared his throat. “See something you like?”</p><p>That startled Bud out of his trance. He acted like the doc caught him doing something he shouldn't be doing. Which <em> technically </em>, he was. </p><p>“What?” He stammered, his dark eyes darting back to Ainsley. He fidgeted with the cuff of his suit sleeve.</p><p>“I see you're infatuated with one of my employees over there.”</p><p>“W-who?” Flustered Bud as he proceeded to mess with his cuff sleeve.</p><p>
  <em> Deny everything. </em>
</p><p>"Dr. Wulfe,” Ainsley motioned over to the scientist. “I noticed you staring so intensely at her.”</p><p>Bud didn't respond. His face felt uncomfortably hot. </p><p>
  <em> Was he blushing? Why was he blushing? Was he just embarrassed or was this something entirely else?  </em>
</p><p>“She's a marvelous young lady,” Dr. Ainsley laughed. “I know <em> exactly </em> why you can't keep your eyes off her.”</p><p>“Well I mean—” Bud shifted from one foot to the other, not wanting to have this discussion. </p><p>“Go on, go talk to her.” The doctor encouraged him.</p><p>“Is that <em> really </em> a good idea?”</p><p>“Come on, Flud,” Dr. Ainsley smiled. “What's the worst that can happen?”</p><p>Bud scoffed at all the possibilities. “She could toss her drink in my face for one thing.”</p><p>“Guess that's a chance you have to take.”</p><p>Bud gave himself a pep talk as he made his way towards Dr. Wulfe. </p><p>
  <em> You can do this, Flud. You built your organization from the ground up. Not only that, but you've talked to people in higher places.  </em>
</p><p>“Pardon me…”</p><p>Kimbra looked over her shoulder and found Bud Flud's award-winning smile. The one that appeared on thousands of television sets in St. Canard. </p><p><em> Great, just great, </em> Kimbra thought. <em> Who the hell invited him? </em></p><p>“Bud Flud,” the water salesman extended his palm out to her. “You must be the lovely Dr. Wulfe.”</p><p>She bluntly refused to shake his hand, not evening bothering to acknowledge it. </p><p>“What the hell are you doing here?” Kimbra icily said as she glanced around the room for Dr. Ainsley. </p><p>Maybe he'd have the uninvited gentlemen kicked out of the building. She speculated that Flud just talked his way into the party. It's what he did with everything else. </p><p>“I'm your sponsor.” Bud frowned at his empty hand and placed it back to his side. </p><p>He didn't understand why his new 'partner' was being impolite. Women usually fell for his irresistible charm, so he didn't know where to go from here. </p><p>Maybe she just requires a little more persuasion, Bud told himself.</p><p>“<em> You </em>?” Kimbra slowly blinked several times as she tried to process the new information. “You're my sponsor?”</p><p>Bud nodded his head, taking one step closer to the scientist. He leaned down a bit, and smoothly whispered, “usually I don't mix business with pleasure, but I can make an exception this time.” </p><p><em> Is he… flirting? No way! </em> Kimbra's mind scrambled for a reply. She didn't know how to respond. What do you even say to something like that? <em> Should she throw her drink in his face? She should throw her drink in his face.  </em></p><p>But she didn't.</p><p>“Okay, ew…  That's incredibly unprofessional,” Kimbra set down her wineglass on the table in front of them. “Besides, I rather have a sponsor who doesn't dress like a used car dealer.”</p><p>“And you say I'm unprofessional.” Bud ignores her insult, instead returning to the topic at hand. “I just think that since we're partners-”</p><p>“No...no no no.” She shook a finger at him, renouncing their partnership. “I'm <em> not </em> your partner.”</p><p>“We'll be working together for the next seven months,” Bud placed both his index fingers closely, side by side. Gesturing their newly formed partnership. “Partners.”</p><p>She rolled her eyes, not bothering to hide her annoyance of Bud. “I'm going to talk to Dr. Ainsley about his little… <em> error </em> he made.”</p><p>She excused herself as she wandered off, scanning the room for her employer. Of all the men in St. Canard that Ainsely could have chosen, he just had to pick Bud Flud. Kimbra struggled a bit, working to locate him. People either kept trying to talk to her or were in the way. </p><p>Bud followed a little more slowly, not wanting to set off Kimbra again. No one warned him that the director of EcoTech's project department had a temper. He'd keep his distance, but stay close by in case she went through with confronting Dr. Ainsley.</p><p>As if she would. </p><p>Kimbra caught a glimpse of a scaly green tail. She made her way towards it, coming upon the doctor chatting away with the guys from the testing laboratory.</p><p>“Ah Kimbra!” Dr. Ainsley recognized his favorite employee and raised his glass to her. “Come, have a chat with us. We're discussing quantum physics. It's absolutely fascinating!”</p><p>
  <em> No, thanks.  </em>
</p><p>“Why did you pick Flud?” Kimbra questioned, skipping the small talk.</p><p>“Flud?” </p><p>“Yes, Flud.”</p><p>Ainsley nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders. “I thought he'd be the best choice for you.”</p><p>“I am not working with...with <em> him </em>!” Kimbra pointed in the general direction of Bud, who remained close behind her. “Dr. Ainsley, he's literally a con man! You cannot force me to work with him for the next seven months!”</p><p>Bud loudly huffed, “I find that highly demeaning you know.”</p><p>He had followed her, wanting to defend himself and make certain he remained on the project. Ainsley chose him for a reason, and he wouldn't let some uptight know-all ruin this for him. Bud didn't care how attractive he found Kimbra to be. It cancelled out whenever she opened that mouth of hers.</p><p>He walked on a thin line of wanting to ask her out, or lock her in a janitorial closet. </p><p>Right now it was the latter. </p><p>Kimbra quickly turned to the salesman. “What's demeaning is the fact you think it's perfectly fine to waltz in here and pretend to care about a project. You only want to sponsor me so you can benefit that company of yours.”</p><p>“Now that's just outright slander!” Bud snapped back at her. “You <em> barely </em> even know me!”</p><p>“Fine, prove me wrong, Flud.” Kimbra stepped towards him so that her face was inches from his. “What's the reason you wish to be my sponsor?”</p><p>
  <em> Silence.  </em>
</p><p>Bud felt as if the entire room were glaring daggers into his soul. He didn't have an answer right away and god <em> forbid </em> if he said the wrong thing. The party would turn their backs on him, and Ainsley might even kick him from the project. He needed this. His company relied on the publicity it would provide him. </p><p><em> Just spit out a good sounding line, </em> Bud thought to himself. He did it all the time on television. Why should this be any different? </p><p>But these were scientists, actual smart people who knew more than him. Scamming his way into their hearts would be more of a challenge.</p><p>“Well Mr. Flud?” Dr. Ainsley motioned for Bud to reply. He appeared eager to hear what the salesman had to say. They all did. </p><p>“To...to help the environment?” Bud replied as he tugged at his shirt collar. “Since… coal as an energy source is uh… one of the largest contributors to global warming.”</p><p>The entrepreneur hoped for his own sake that he was repeating all that right. He heard it a few times on the news, but never paid that much attention to it. His answer seemed to displease Kimbra, which he had no idea what that meant. </p><p>Most of the room nodded in agreement and then went back to their usual chitchat. </p><p>To Bud's relief, they all accepted the answer without a second thought. He actually did it. He lied his way into this ridiculous project.</p><p>Unlike the others, Kimbra knew better than to trust any word that came out of Flud's mouth. He only knew lies and catchy slogans. He cared for nothing but himself.</p><p>That isn't someone Kimbra wanted to work with for the next seven months.</p><p>“You might have everybody else here fooled, but not me. I don't trust you.” Kimbra spoke to Bud in a hushed manner. “Just stay out of my way, and we won't have any problems.”</p><p>Before Bud could respond, Kimbra disappeared into the crowd. That left him standing alone with Dr. Ainsley, wondering what kind of mess he had gotten himself into.</p><p>Bud dreaded working with her. </p><p>“That went terrible,”He exhaled sharply. “I have never in my entire life met a woman that belligerent.”</p><p>The reptilian snickered, holding a glass to his mouth. “I'm not surprised.”</p><p>“You knew how she'd react to me?"</p><p>“Come on now,” The doctor laughed. “She'll warm up to you… eventually.”</p><p>He took a small sip of his champagne as he listened to Bud. Ainsley had his reasons for pairing the two together. Now… the first month they <em> might </em> be at each other throats, but he knew things would work themselves out. Bud Flud was the best choice for C.O.R.E, whether Kimbra knew it or not.</p><p>Bud rubbed the back of his neck, doubting Ainsley's judgement. “I don't think working with her is such a great idea. She obviously hates my guts.” </p><p>“Dr. Wulfe just requires time to warm up to you. Give it a chance.”</p><p>
  <em> Fine. </em>
</p><p>Bud agreed that he'd attempt to get along with that menace of a woman. He'd endure her aggressive temperament and insults. He'd overlook her surly and standoffish attitude towards everyone.</p><p>For the sake of his dying company.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>The nerve of some people.</em>
</p><p>Kimbra ranted to herself as she rifled through her purse. After the unfortunate run-in with Bud Flud, she left the party. Kimbra knew that sticking around would only encourage the narcissistic CEO to try chatting with her again. Neither of them had anything to talk about. Bud might have been chosen as her sponsor, but that didn't mean she had to be nice. No way would she <em>ever</em> work with a man like him.</p><p>
  <em>Never in a million years.</em>
</p><p>“Where did I put it?” She muttered aloud, still searching for the key to the apartment.</p><p>On the other side of St. Canard stood a modest, but elegant apartment complex called GraStone Village. It offered a sense of comfort and peace, unlike the rest of the busy city. The residents were tolerable—as most were quiet and considerate of their neighbors.</p><p>
  <em>Well, besides Larry on the fourth floor. He has issues with boundaries.</em>
</p><p>Kimbra began living at GraStone once she graduated from university. Being out of a dorm and on her own provided a grasp of freedom she had never experienced. Sure, moving thousands of miles away from her hometown and into a bustling city was freeing, but the university campus and strict rules put a damper on that.</p><p>Her pace down the hallway remained slow, as she didn't want to bump into anyone. She wasn't expecting to see anybody else out at this hour, but it's better to be safe than sorry. </p><p>Kimbra felt a pang of worry surge through her chest as she hadn't found the key yet.</p><p>
  <em>Did she forget it inside the apartment?</em>
</p><p><em>No,</em> Kimbra specifically remembered tucking the key in her bag before she left.</p><p>
  <em>Did she lose it during the party?</em>
</p><p>Probably.</p><p>If she couldn't recover it, she'd just have to call the landlord to let her in. And considering how late it was, he wouldn't be answering the phone tonight. Most of St. Canard was in a deep slumber by now.</p><p>Except for Kimbra.</p><p>She was accustomed to being up at these ungodly hours. Working on projects or signing the stack of paperwork that towered on her desk. While the city slept, Kimbra worked tirelessly to make the world a better place. Or at least she tried. </p><p>
  <em>Not that anything she did ever mattered. </em>
</p><p>Kimbra's fingers brushed against something other than receipts or pocket change. It yanked her out of the depression she had spiraled into. Over the years, she developed the unpleasant habit of overthinking situations to the point her mood would drop. (Something her therapist scolded her for.)</p><p>Kimbra quit walking and pulled the object out from the depths of her purse. “Aha! Found it!” She held up a small silver key triumphantly.</p><p>She looked ridiculous.</p><p>The next step was finding her apartment door. So, Kimbra took in her surroundings, hoping she stopped near it. Dozens of bland wooden doors lined each side of the hallway. Three large black numbers adorned the front of each door. (Each has its own unique number.) They were the easiest way to remember which apartment was yours. </p><p>The door closest to Kimbra caught her attention.</p><p>
  <strong>380</strong>
</p><p><em>Close.</em> </p><p>She began walking again, skimming over each door's numbers.</p><p>
  <strong>393</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Getting closer.</em>
</p><p>With each step, Kimbra's mind grew uneasy as she thought about Bud. Having a sponsor who merely saw your project as something they could benefit from, hurt. The fool also had the courage to flirt with her in front of everyone. He was no different from all the others who took her for granted. People only saw her as a joke. No one ever appreciated her efforts. Kimbra felt like another pretty face that people could use and toss aside when they were done. </p><p>Nothing she did would ever be enough. She would never be enough.</p><p>
  <strong>402</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>That's it.</em>
</p><p>The intrusive thoughts almost made Kimbra walk right by her door. </p><p>She inserted the key into the lock and twisted it. With the sound of a click, it unlocked. Kimbra pulled it out and opened the door. The glow of the traffic light from across the street spilled into the dark room. It gave the furniture and walls a slight red tint. </p><p>Kimbra flipped on the light switch as she kicked off her high heels. The door closed behind her, cutting off the rest of the world. Loneliness crept upon her each time she entered the place she called home. Kimbra preferred to be alone as social events exhausted her, but every so often she yearned for a bit of companionship. </p><p>
  <em>It's fine. It really is. </em>
</p><p>A granite counter separated the kitchen and the living room. A short stack of unopened mail, a television remote, and a bowl of fake fruit sat upon it. She set her purse and key beside the bowl. </p><p>Kimbra settled at one of the bar stools behind the counter. She picked up the remote and switched the TV on—as she liked background noise. It made the small apartment feel less… lonely. Television at this time of night was mostly commercials. Or some late night show such as the ones with Don Webberson or Rick Swanson.</p><p>She drummed her fingers on the counter as she flipped through the mail. Just junk mail and a bill or two. Nothing special. Letters from her hometown should arrive soon. Her four older brothers liked to write letters and send her mementos. Their father preferred to call, joking that <em>'I retired from writing long ago.'</em></p><p>Kimbra missed them.</p><p>A familiar voice on the television forced her small ears to perk up. </p><p>“Here at Sparkling Crystal Pure Flud Water, we make it a priority to give you the best.”</p><p>
  <em>No. It can't be. </em>
</p><p>And sure enough, when Kimbra looked up at the TV, there was Bud Flud himself. He proudly stood in front of a large factory with a water bottle in his hand. </p><p>He continued. “I can personally guarantee our products will meet your expectations. If not, then my name isn't—”</p><p>Two water bottle mascots entered the shot and began chanting a catchy jingle. “Bud Bud Bud, Buddy Fluddd!”</p><p>
  <em>Please make it stop.</em>
</p><p>“I just can't get rid of you, can I?” Kimbra said aloud as she shut the TV off. </p><p>Silence. She was left alone with only her thoughts. </p><p>The body has over seven trillion nerves, yet that water bottle salesman got on every one of Kimbra's. Even in her own home, Kimbra couldn't escape from the likes of that arrogant man. He seemed nothing short of self-centered.</p><p>The thought of meeting him in person again made the dog queasy. She let out a heavy, still-irritated huff.</p><p>Tomorrow is another day. </p><p>***</p><p>The next morning dragged along at a painstakingly slow speed. Like slowly ripping a bandaid off the most delicate part of your body. It started off with Kimbra waking before dawn to go on a quick jog. It cleared her mind and provided a chance to plan the day ahead. </p><p>Kimbra hopped off the last step that led up to the complex's lobby. A loud yawn escaped her mouth as she stretched. She took a moment to warm up before heading off. A few arm stretches, touching her toes, stretching out her legs, and she was ready to go.</p><p>
  <em>Let's do this.</em>
</p><p>The white furred canine jogged down the empty sidewalk. A dull glow from the streetlights illuminated the pavement. She passed several stores who had not opened yet. Each window bore a closed sign. They'd open soon to the public, offering a variety of goods and services to those who entered. </p><p>A few drunken individuals moped out of Frollie's, one of the many bars on the main road of St. Canard. It made a smile form on Kimbra's face. She had gotten kicked out of there back in college. Admittingly, she's done several shameful things in her youth. As time passed, she grew up and became the responsible adult people now knew her as. </p><p>Okay, so she <em>still</em> had a bit of growing up to do. Everyone is entitled to keep a portion of their youth, right?</p><p>She stopped her jog once she arrived at the corner of Kestrel Park. The sun peeked over the horizon, causing hues of yellow and crimson to bleed out across the endless sky. Say what you want about St. Canard, you couldn't deny that it held a gorgeous sunrise. </p><p>Kimbra squeezed her eyes shut, taking just a moment to bask in the rising sun. </p><p>
  <em>What time was it anyway?</em>
</p><p>She opened her eyes and checked the watch on her wrist.</p><p><strong>6:34 a.m</strong> </p><p>Good. That allowed enough time for her to head back home and get ready for work. She generally went in at eight and would stay until almost midnight. The department directors didn't have to come in early like the lab boys or technicians. Sometimes Kimbra did, largely due to loneliness or sheer boredom.</p><p>She made her way back down the walkway to GraStone. The closed signs in the windows were now flipped over to open.</p><p>St. Canard eased out of its silent slumber. </p><p>***</p><p>Kimbra snuck into work without coming across Dr. Ainsley. She preferred to avoid discussing why she had left his party so early. Their conversation would start off by Ainsley telling her she needed to be more social, and again she'd have to reassure him she's fine. Kimbra knew the doctor cared for her, but occasionally he could be overbearing. </p><p>The other reason for creeping around was Kimbra wanted to avoid Bud Flud. Things get ugly way too quick when they are in a room together. She didn't feel like dealing with him today.</p><p>
  <em>Kimbra, you're the one who always starts it. </em>
</p><p>Well, Flud deserves every harsh word that came out of her mouth. It's not like he valued her opinion, anyway. No one did. </p><p>Three hours in and the executive caught up to Kimbra in her own office. He wore a displeased expression upon his face. She had just started to leave to check on C.O.R.E, and there he was. </p><p>“I have places to be.” Kimbra attempted to push past him. </p><p>Bud stood in the doorway, blocking her exit. “Why are you avoiding me?”</p><p>
  <em>Guess he noticed. </em>
</p><p>Kimbra's cream-colored face had lost the bit of color it had. All morning she had been dodging him. Each time he'd enter a room, she'd slip out and go hide out somewhere else. Was it immature and petty? Maybe. </p><p>She rolled her eyes and told a lie. “I don't know what you're talking about.”</p><p>“Each time I approach you, you just run off, and it takes me half an hour to find you again!” He eased closer. She took a step back in response.</p><p>“Perhaps I just don't want to be seen with the likes of you.”</p><p>Bud appeared unfazed by her insult. “We're working together now. You can't just avoid me all day for the next seven months.”</p><p>
  <em>I can try.</em>
</p><p>“So what, am I supposed to be your babysitter or something?” Kimbra placed a hand on her hip, getting more annoyed by the second.</p><p>“I'm a grown man. I don't need a babysitter.”</p><p>
  <em>Liar.</em>
</p><p>“Then what?” </p><p>“Why don't you give me a tour?” He suggests, keeping eye contact hoping the scientist sees how serious he is about the project. Everyone else seemed too busy to bother showing him around. Or they too were avoiding him.</p><p>Kimba frowned. A <em>tour</em>, Bud wanted her to give <em>him</em> a tour of the gigantic facility. She was literally his babysitter. </p><p>“Fine,” Kimbra surrendered. “I'll show you around the company.”</p><p>She pondered for a moment. “I can't show the testing facility until next week,” Kimbra realized that Bud didn't have that sort of authorization yet. “I'll have an intern make you an ID tag, so you can go as you please.”</p><p>
  <em>And so, you don't have to follow me around all day like a puppy. </em>
</p><p>Bud only nodded in response. </p><p>Kimbra held out her arms, presenting the room to the sponsor. “This is my office.”</p><p>“Nice view.” The hound's attention turned to the vast windows that aligned the wall adjacent to the desk. You could see most of St. Canard's skyline from there.</p><p>“I pay no mind to it.” With a flick of the wrist, she disregarded him to keep the tour going. “This is my desk. Ignore the clutter.”</p><p>Bud tried to ignore the towering stacks of paper scattered all over the desk. </p><p>“Here's where I store all my files.” Kimbra led them to a tall metal filing cabinet that sat against the wall. </p><p>She then pointed out a small fern sitting at the top. It rested in a clay pot and was undoubtedly loved. “This is my office plant, Herald,” Kimbra leaned over to Bud and whispered. “I had to separate him from the other two because he has homicidal tendencies.”</p><p>“Homicidal… <em>what</em>?” Bud asked in disbelief. </p><p>“He keeps killing my other plants.” She rambled as she stood on her tiptoes and observed the fern's leaves. “He had a troubling childhood.”</p><p>Bud wanted to storm out of there, but he just huffed. “It's a plant.”</p><p>A plant, a small insignificant plant that could easily be replaced. Yet here a so-called scientist was, coddling over it. </p><p>Kimbra patted the fern affectionately. “Don't listen to him Herald, he just hates anything that's living.”</p><p>“Can we just get on with the tour?” Bud replied irritably, and squeezed the bridge of his nose in frustration.</p><p>“Fine, don't get so uptight, geez. Let's see…” Kimbra tapped a finger against her chin as she pondered over what to show him next. “Oh, I'll show you the other departments!” </p><p>“<em>Other</em> departments?”</p><p>“Yes!” She moved past him to the office doorway. “We'll have to take the elevator since they're on different floors.”</p><p>Leaving Bud alone in the room, she strode on down the hallway to the elevator. Not even a 'hey let's go' or a <em>'are you coming or what?'</em> </p><p>He then heard the scientist yell out for him. “Get a move on, Flud!”</p><p><em>I can't do this for the next seven months,</em> Bud told himself. </p><p>Kimbra patiently stood in the elevator, waiting for her sponsor. Once he stepped in, she pressed a large button that had the number thirteen printed onto it. The button lit up, and the doors closed. The lift moved, easing its way down five floors. Kimbra and Bud stood without speaking. There was nothing much for them to say. For once, they weren't fighting or throwing insults at one another.</p><p>Bud found himself glancing at Kimbra, he never had the chance to look closely at her face until now. Her light blue eyes remained looking up at the counter, which was counting down.</p><p>
  <strong>18... 17...</strong>
</p><p>Her purple hair that was draped over her shoulders when they first met was now neatly tied up in a bun. Bud wondered if that was even her actual hair color. </p><p>
  <em>Of course not. People rarely have purple hair. She obviously dyed it for some reason. </em>
</p><p>It suited her. Bud was never fond of purple, but he liked it on her. </p><p>
  <em>She's awfully pretty. </em>
</p><p>An electronic voice spoke from the elevator speaker. It broke the silence and Bud's thoughts. </p><p>
  <em>"Floor thirteen."</em>
</p><p>The elevator halted to a stop, and the metal doors opened. Kimbra stepped out first, and Bud followed closely behind. </p><p>“This is the research department,” she paced down the corridor, motioning with a hand at the line of doors on each side. </p><p>“So it's all just research?”</p><p>Kimbra nodded. She then pressed her finger to her lips, signaling for Bud to keep quiet. “If you listen closely, you can hear the pitiful weeps of our researchers.” She leaned forwards to a door, pretending she was trying to listen in. </p><p>“That's just sad.”</p><p>It was. Kimbra thought she was hilarious, and if Bud didn't appreciate her humor, then that's his loss.</p><p>“They're researching this invasive virus that's wiping out cabbages.” She explained as they moved on. “They aren't enjoying it very much.”</p><p>Bud followed her, taking a second to peer into the room. “I wouldn't either if I had to play with vegetables all day.”</p><p>Kimbra smiled at him. She <em>actually</em> smiled at his lame joke. The scientist had a sense of humor, after all. Go figure. </p><p>Bud smiled hesitantly in return, afraid of saying something to ruin the moment between them. It didn't last long as Kimbra dragged him along to the next part of the tour. They went back to the elevator which took them to the top floor.</p><p>
  <em>"Floor twenty."</em>
</p><p>“Here's the project department's lab.” Kimbra spoke as soon as the elevator opened its doors. “These rooms are where our projects are brought to life.”</p><p>She explained what each door held behind them. Mostly equipment for other companies or confidential projects.</p><p>“Here's my baby,” she happily presented a larger heavy metal door to him. </p><p>“I just see a gigantic door.”</p><p>
  <em>Okay smart ass.</em>
</p><p>“Give me just a second,” She took off the lanyard around her neck that carried her ID bag. With a swift move, she swiped it in a crease by the door. She punched a few numbers into the numerical pad above that.</p><p>A loud buzz went off, irritating Bud's ears. The metal doors opened, and Kimbra gestured for Bud to follow her inside.</p><p>He did. “This place is under heavy security, huh?”</p><p>“Yeah… I'm thinking about installing hand scanners to bump up surveillance.” </p><p>“Isn't that too much?”</p><p>“You can never be too careful.” Kimbra chuckled and walked into the room with Bud. “This… this is C.O.R.E.”</p><p>A large cylinder shaped glass chamber rested in the middle of the floor. Tubes and wires connected to it from the ceiling. It looked intimidating. A few technicians and lab boys worked around the area. Tinkering with parts or tapping away on a computer. </p><p>Bud went silent. His head tilted as he glimpsed over the glass chamber. He had no clue what that thing was.</p><p>“What's C.O.R.E?”</p><p>Kimbra's arms slumped back down as she stared at him in disbelief. “Did you even listen to my presentation?”</p><p>
  <em>Yes… and no.</em>
</p><p>Bud held his hands up and shrugged. “Partially.”</p><p>Partially? You can't sponsor something you partially know about! What on earth is wrong with you?</p><p>“You were in the conference room when I went over it! How do you not remember anything I said?”</p><p>“I was… distracted,” he sheepishly admits.</p><p>Kimbra loudly sighed as she handed him something from her lab coat. “Here's a packet about it because I am not going through the presentation again.”</p><p>Bud accepted it. “Oh, someone came prepared.”</p><p>
  <em>Always do. </em>
</p><p>She waited as Bud flipped through the booklet. Half the words in it, he wasn't sure of, but he got the gist of the project.</p><p>Bud closed the packet once he finished and stuffed it in his back pocket. “Can't reactors meltdown?”</p><p>
  <em>Oh ho ho, the man can read after all!</em>
</p><p>“We established a safety program for that. A safeguard if you prefer to call it that.”</p><p>“And that helps… how?”</p><p>Kimbra held up her index finger, telling Bud to give her a moment. She turned to her left, where across the room a lion was set up at a small workstation. Bud didn't know what he was doing. It sounded like he was just playing with a screwdriver and spare parts.</p><p>“Neil,” Kimbra called out to him. Her tone towards him was much gentler than the one she used against Bud. </p><p>The lion looked up from his station, wearing a pair of goggles over his eyes. “Hm?”</p><p>“Can you shut off the cooling system?”</p><p>He threw her a thumbs up as he finished what he was doing.</p><p>Kimbra returned to her position beside Bud. “Right now we're just pumping in water through the channels to keep C.O.R.E at an appropriate temperature.” </p><p>“What happens if the safeguard fails?”</p><p>“It won't,” She rolled up her coat sleeves to her elbows. “But if it does, then C.O.R.E will explode, taking out a vast portion of EcoTech and everyone in a hundred yard radius will perish.”</p><p>Bud was clearly at a loss for words.</p><p>“Kimbra I'm starting to realize that this project is a tad… <em>dangerous</em>.”</p><p>“Of course it's dangerous!” Kimbra snapped at him. ”This is nothing new for EcoTech, if you're too scared to continue, then I'll happily find another sponsor.”</p><p>“I'll be fine.” Bud held back a snide remark. He wasn't a child. Hell, he was two years older than Kimbra, yet she was treating him like a helpless infant. </p><p><em>“Cooling Systems Deactivated.”</em> A mechanical voice spoke over a speaker that hung on the wall behind them. It startled Bud, who tried to play it off as nothing. </p><p>Neil must have shut off the systems. </p><p>A loud whirling noise filled the room. The lights flickered and completely shut off. Three seconds later they flashed back on. </p><p>
  <em>"Cooling systems reactivated. Generated activated. Temperature level: normal."</em>
</p><p>The safeguards worked. </p><p>Bud opened his mouth to compliment the team's work, but it was no use. Kimbra was already leaving the room. She said goodbye to the C.O.R.E team and left. He kept close behind, managing to catch up to her halfway down the hall.</p><p>“I need to pick up some papers from the break room before we head back to the office,” She motioned with her hand to the elevator. </p><p>Neither of them said much on the way. Kimbra only wanted to argue, and Bud didn't want to talk. They entered the elevator in silence. She pressed the button for floor ten and the doors sealed shut.</p><p>The CEO caught himself studying her again. She fiddled with her ID tag, not paying any mind to him. Only now had he noticed the small beauty mark on the right side of her face, above her lip. She was short, her head only coming up to his chin. </p><p>
  <em>Flud, she'd break your leg if she knew you were staring.</em>
</p><p>Bud just wanted the scientist to get along with him. All she did was judge him by the surface. She knew next to nothing about him. Then again, isn't he doing the same? He continued to criticize her and call her cold, but they were strangers to one another. </p><p>He knew next to nothing about her too. </p><p>
  <em>“Floor ten.”</em>
</p><p>The doors opened, and the two walked out into a busy corridor. EcoTech employees bustled through, carrying folders and papers or just taking a break.</p><p>Bud followed Kimbra down the end of the hall. She turned into the doorway on the right. Laughter filled the air along with the smell of freshly made coffee. A few people stood around the room, drinking caffeine or fiddling with the printer that sat against the rear wall. They paid no mind to the canines. Bud felt out of place with all the white coat wearing nerds. They probably snickered about him behind his back. </p><p>Kimbra scooped up a few papers from the center table. “So what did you think?”</p><p>“About?”</p><p>“The tour? C.O.R.E? <em>Everything</em>?” She stacked them and straightened her posture—her eyes on him—waiting for a response.</p><p>“Eh,” Bud shrugged. “It's fine, I guess.”</p><p>Fine? That's all you have to say about this place? Fine?</p><p>She dropped the stack of papers on the table and glared at him. “Do you even care about this project?” </p><p>Bud said nothing. </p><p>Technically, <em>yes</em>, he cared about the project. It was for all the wrong reasons. None of them which he could admit to Kimbra. She'd either yell at him or throw something in his direction. Maybe fewer words would work with her. Or just silence. She couldn't be mad if he just did nothing. </p><p>Kimbra spoke again. “Your silence is deafening.”</p><p>
  <em>Nevermind... that made her mad too.</em>
</p><p>Once again, Bud just shrugged a reply, looking completely clueless to everything around him. </p><p>She rolled her eyes. “If it's not too much to ask, can you do something for me?”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“I need you to make a few copies for me,” Kimbra handed the hound a slip of paper.  “Can you handle that?”</p><p>
  <em>He ran his own company, surely he could make paper copies.</em>
</p><p>“Yes I can handle that.” Bud looked almost offended. He could deal with making a few paper copies. It's one of the easiest tasks you can give someone.</p><p>The poster was for a festival celebrating the earth. A fundraiser for organizations that fought against pollution and global warming. </p><p>It sounded pointless to Bud. </p><p>“What's the point in trying to save a world that's so cruel and cold?”</p><p>“Because not the entire world is like <em>that</em>.” she snapped in response. “It's worth saving.”</p><p>“I just think it's a waste of time.”</p><p>
  <em>Is he trying to ruin this? Is he really degrading the project? What a blowhard.</em>
</p><p>Kimbra grabbed him by the tie, pulling the man down to her height. This caused their noses to touch. “You better not ruin this for me, Flud. I have worked my tail off the last several months for just a chance to have my project approved.”</p><p>She suddenly released his tie, but kept her face to his. “Do <em>not</em> screw this up.”</p><p>“I won't.”</p><p><em>Liar.</em> </p><p>Kimbra took the bundle of papers in her hands. She gave Bud one last glare before leaving the room. His eyes lingered on the scientist as she walked through the doorway and into the hallway. Bud was pretty confident he made Kimbra despise him even more. Each time he opened that big mouth of his, something insensitive just fell out. </p><p>Either that or Kimbra was touchy.</p><p>Bud looked over to a nearby witness as he tucked the tie back into his suit. “What's her problem?”</p><p>The intern, a young male koala, leaned forward as he watched Kimbra stroll down the hall and into her office. “She's like that with everyone, sir.”  He straightened up and went back to making paper copies. “She's just a bit… <em>cold</em>.”</p><p>Bud scoffed. “More like the bitter ice queen of St. Canard.”</p><p>The remark caused the teenager to laugh. “That's a good one, Mr. Flud!”</p><p>“Yeah it is, isn't it.” Bud smirked, feeling pretty proud of himself. </p><p>The koala who was named Daniel, helped him make copies of the posters. They had a short chat, mostly about Kimbra's chilly behavior. No matter how many flirtatious tricks he tried, Bud couldn't get past that wall she had up. Daniel laughed at him for even thinking about trying to swoon the scientist into liking him. In his words, <em>'she only cares about the job, so you might as well just accept her resentment of you.'</em> She never seemed happy with anyone.</p><p>Bud picked up the stack of papers that had printed and leafed through them. He thanked Daniel for the help and departed from the break room. He headed back to Kimbra's office. On the way there he began mentally preparing himself for yet another argument with her.</p><p>Dr. Ainsley found him halfway, displaying a big smile as always. “Ah Mr. Flud, how's it going with Dr. Wulfe?”</p><p>
  <em>Terrible.</em>
</p><p>“She just goes on and on.” Bud twirls his free hand in the air a few times. “She's <em>impossible</em> to get through!”</p><p>He almost had her with that ridiculous joke. Almost.</p><p>“You'll find a way. Just use that charm of yours I've heard so much about.”</p><p>Bud shifted his position nervously. “I don't think it'll work on her. She's awfully cold and stubborn.”</p><p>“As I mentioned before, she just requires time to warm up to you.”</p><p>“I suppose…” </p><p>“Anyway, I'll let you get back to—” the reptile's eyes darted to the papers in Bud's hands, and back up to Bud's face. “Whatever you were doing.”</p><p>He bid goodbye to Bud and wandered off to do some sciencey stuff. He told Bud what he was leaving to do, but the CEO couldn't recall what it was. Something about uranium and the federal government.</p><p>Bud gave the door two sharp knocks with his free hand. That pessimist has to say something nice about him making copies for her. He did what she asked. If this didn't get them on better terms with one another, then nothing would. Maybe that was... overdramatic. But Bud needed this project to go smoothly. He merely regarded it as a quick and easy way to boost his sales. It shouldn't be this complicated. She's the one making things difficult.</p><p>Kimbra called out from within the room. “Come in.”</p><p><em>Good, she doesn't sound mad,</em> Bud thought, opening the office door. </p><p>Behind the desk was Kimbra, invested in work as expected. She didn't glance up. </p><p>Bud closed the door behind him and stepped across the office to her. He paused in front of the desk, patiently waiting. The salesman hoped she'd look up to acknowledge him, but she didn't. </p><p>He loudly cleared his throat. “How's these?” Bud asked as he raised the papers and waved them in Kimbra's direction. That should catch her attention.</p><p>Kimbra didn't bother to look up from her work. “It's acceptable.”</p><p>
  <em>Seriously?</em>
</p><p>“Acceptable? That's all you have to say? Just <em>acceptable</em>?”</p><p>Kimbra nodded her head, barely paying any mind to the hound. </p><p>“Lady, you are <em>so</em> hard to please.” Bud shook his head as he gave a deep frustrated exhale. He dropped the papers with a thump on her desk.</p><p>A slight grin tugged at Kimbra's mouth. “Bet you're used to telling your dates that, aren't you, Flud?”</p><p>“No I—<em>hey</em>!”  Bud says, his voice obnoxiously whiny. “Listen, I am tired of you throwing insults at me!” His hands rested palms down on the desk. He wasn't about to let a know-it-all scientist make assumptions about his love life. </p><p>Her eyes met his. “And I'm tired of seeing your face.”</p><p>“Kimbra, we are adults and I think you should start acting like one.”</p><p>
  <em>Says you. </em>
</p><p>“If I do—will you drop your sponsorship?”</p><p>“No.” Bud refused. </p><p>“No deal.” Kimbra eyes dropped back down to her papers. She went back to writing. </p><p>“Ugh,” he groaned in frustration. “Whether you like me or not, we are <em>partners</em>.</p><p>“Stop saying we're partners.”</p><p>“What's your problem with me?”</p><p>She decided to be straightforward with Bud. “I find you absolutely revolting.”</p><p>“You aren't a walk in the park either, princess.”</p><p>“Don't call me princess.” Kimbra dropped the pen and stood up. “I don't like you because all you are is another slimy capitalist. You care only for profits and yourself.”</p><p>“I still don't understand why you resent me so much.” Bud grumbled in a tone he assumed was too low to hear.</p><p>
  <em>Is he being serious?</em>
</p><p>“Are you serious?” Kimbra heard him anyway. “Capitalism is harmful to the habitat. It's contributed to significant environmental degradation—because of people like you, I have to fight every day to try to repair the damage.”</p><p>“It also has a positive side.”</p><p>
  <em>Doubt it. </em>
</p><p>“Yeah, but only for people like you who profit off of others."</p><p>Bud's temper showed. “I'm <em>not</em> having this discussion with you. Your project is only being brought to life because of me. You're benefiting off capitalism just like anyone else.”</p><p>The air surrounding the two grew heavy with tension. </p><p>Kimbra frowned. “I had no say in the matter.”</p><p>“You could defend your opinion and abandon the project altogether.”</p><p>Uncomfortable silence fell upon them. Kimbra had nothing more to add. She crossed her arms and glared at him. She preferred if he left this instant. Before she said something that'd get her fired.</p><p>“I'll be in Ainsley's office.” Bud spoke through clenched teeth. “See you tomorrow.” He tried his best to keep calm. For his company.</p><p>The door closed soundlessly behind him, and Kimbra felt her shoulders relax.</p><p>
  <em>What a conceited jerk.</em>
</p><p>***</p><p>Kimbra's footfalls echoed on the floor and flowed through the vacant building. Everyone else had gone home hours ago. Per usual, Kimbra stayed late to finish up her paperwork. People teased her for such, stating she's married to the job. At least she took her work seriously.</p><p>She stepped outside and into the dry, unwelcoming streets of St. Canard. Warm summer air wafted through her purple hair, lifting it off her shoulders. The agonizing summers in St. Canard made being outside practically impossible. Nights were a bit more bearable as the sun is down, and the city is quieter.</p><p>Sadly, the cooler night was hard to appreciate.</p><p>Kimbra's first time working alongside Bud went horribly. The two quarreled back and forth all day long. She'd make a snide remark about his line of work and he'd stand by it, right after taunting her back. They wouldn't have C.O.R.E completed by December if things kept going this way. </p><p>Kimbra had to get rid of the water salesman. Someway… <em>somehow</em>… he had to leave the project. </p><p>The sooner the better.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sunlight peeked through the curtains of the bedroom. Kimbra could hear the soft patter of rain on the roof fade out. All night, a heavy shower hammered down on the barren streets of St. Canard. It had started to ease around the crack of dawn. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Thank god. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kimbra refused to struggle out in a downpour while trying to get to work. She didn't even </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to go in today. Taking a sick day seemed like the better option out of her other ideas. The canine wanted to avoid the humid air and risk of having her hair poof out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a heavy yawn, she stretched and climbed out of bed. Kimbra sleepily rubbed her eyes as she made her way over to the window. She pulled the curtains open, revealing a devastatingly bright daylight. The weather had been gradually getting warmer each week, much to her displeasure. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>St. Canard sucks in the summer.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>***</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kimbra was slightly more awake by the time she arrived at EcoTech. Skipping out on coffee today might set her mood back, but at least she'd have a chance to find those spreadsheets that Dr. Artis has been asking for the past week. Lately she hadn't found the time to look for them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A tall guard at the front entrance opened the door for Kimbra and chirped out a greeting as she approached. “Morning Dr. Wulfe!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kimbra smiled. “Clavin.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clavin Herris, a large lynx, stood at six feet and four inches tall. He was one of EcoTech's long-time employees. Kimbra grew fond of him over the years. They have small chats in the mornings and occasionally mingle at the company parties. He had recently gotten engaged last month and Kimbra actually looked forward to the wedding.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Hmm…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kimbra almost walked through the doorway without uttering another word. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Almost.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But she stopped and looked over her shoulder at him. “Can I ask a favor from you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure miss, anything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There's this guy…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>***</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>They have to be here!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kimbra had been searching frantically through the papers on her desk for the past hour. She swore they were in her desk drawer with the other files. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Where were those spreadsheets? They were just here yesterday!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dr. Artis needed them for the one o' clock meeting tomorrow. He had specifically asked </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span> to bring them, and now she didn't even know where they were. Kimbra shoved aside a couple of forms that should have been signed at least two days ago. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Okay… maybe I'm a bit behind on paperwork.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wrenched the drawers open, tipping the contents out all over the floor. Old sticky notes of concepts she scrapped — a few letters from home—paperwork that had been misplaced—and everything but the spreadsheets. The sudden opening of her office door caught Kimbra's attention. She glanced up from her search to see Bud step into the room. His usual neatly combed black hair was now disheveled and his blue tie was askew. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man looked like an exhausted mess.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kimbra's eyes glanced at the clock by the door, and back to the man. “You're half an hour late.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The guard at the door said I was unauthorized to enter the building!” Bud replied, attempting to fix his hair. He adjusted his tie and tucked it back into his suit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He arrived at EcoTech during a particularly high tide of frustration. The morning so far had been aggravating. He woke up ten minutes late, burnt himself while making coffee, one of his clients cancelled on him, and now this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kimbra knelt down as she picked up the papers from the floor. “Huh, wonder who told him that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bud threw his arms out wide in disbelief at her words. “He said you did! He tackled me when I tried getting through the door!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Okay, so she might have said that.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kimbra tried not to crack a grin. “How did you get up here then?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Security had to go through their files and make sure I was authorized!”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You have got to be kidding. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Kimbra couldn't believe she didn't think to toss out Bud's clearance file.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, well. There's always next time.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She finished tidying up the mess she made and shut the desk drawers closed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I told them to use a taser on you, I wonder why they didn't.” Kimbra joked as she tried to hide her disappointment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kimbra!” He didn't appreciate her sense of humor. Now was not the time for jokes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It's just a joke, Bud.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can we just drop this? I need you to approve this month's budget.” She picked up a file from the corner of the desk and attempted to give it to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bud held up his hands in refusal. “I'm not doing it.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why not?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because I'm leaving.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Dramatic.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You just got here!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'm telling Dr. Ainsley you're being a pain in the ass.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You really think he'll believe you over me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To be fair, Ainsley </span>
  <em>
    <span>would</span>
  </em>
  <span> take Bud's side and possibly kick her off her own project. No way can Bud talk to him first. Kimbra hoped he would just back down and forget this ever happened. Or at least keep it out of Ainsley's ears. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Well, crap.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine,” She stood up. “Lets both go talk to him then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The two walked to the elevator in silence. Neither had much to say (or at least anything that's nice.) </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The two walked down the hall to the elevator without a word. Neither had much to say (or at least anything that's nice). They stopped once they arrived at the metal doors. Bud pushed the elevator button with his thumb and took a step back, waiting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The lift was slowly making its way up from the third floor. It dragged along, causing a bit of anxiety to rise in Kimbra's stomach.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>4…</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>5...</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bud's flat, tired voice broke the silence. “We can't keep bickering like this all the time you know.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Part of Kimbra knew he was right. It was interfering with her work. Her project. But she </span>
  <em>
    <span>refused</span>
  </em>
  <span> to let him win. No way would Bud smooth talk his way onto her good side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can't, but I can.” Kimbra blankly continued to stare at the elevator, wishing it'd hurry. She could feel Bud's gaze staring her down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>8...</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>9..</b>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We're supposed to be partners.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Again, I don't want you calling me your partner.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sighed. “All I'm asking is for you to be a little more considerate of my feelings.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You?</span>
  </em>
  <span> You have feelings?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>10...</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>11...</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That set him off. “I do!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you did, then you'd feel at least a bit of empathy for those you've hurt.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>12...</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I haven't done anything wrong!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>13...</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She snorted at his response. “Says the CEO of a water bottling company who spits out lies so he can take advantage of others.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>14...</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>15...</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>16...</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bud leaned over to her and spoke in an irritated tone. “Listen, I'm just trying to make an honest living and I don't need some stuck up little tree hugger telling me how to run </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> business.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>17...</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>18…</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The elevator stopped with a loud ding that echoed through the empty corridor. The metal doors opened and Bud went in first. Kimbra smiled at him as she stepped in after him. She then slid her hands down the numerical buttons on the panel, causing every number from one to twenty to light up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What the—?” Bud began to demand an answer to what the scientist was doing, but she cut him off before he could ask.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“SEE YA LATER FLUD!” She yelled, dashing out of the elevator, down the hall, and into a nearby stairwell. She almost fell because of the floors being slick, (and the fact she's a total disaster of a person) but caught her balance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before Bud could run after her—the elevator doors closed shut—and his face smacked into the cold metal. He rubbed his throbbing nose and grumbled a few not-so-pleasant words under his breath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now the elevator would stop at every floor. Bud </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> use Kimbra's idea of taking the stairwell, but she was probably a floor ahead of him by now. And he wasn't in the best of shape to be running downstairs. Especially since the elevator currently sat on the eighteenth floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She's too much trouble. Of all the women in St. Canard, Bud just </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be paired with the most troublesome one. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The universe was playing a cruel joke on him. Karma for all his wrong doings and misdeeds. </span>
  <em>
    <span>All this torment isn't worth it,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Bud thought as the elevator went up and stopped at floor nineteen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>***</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kimbra paced down the staircase, feeling herself become winded. She wasn't prepared to rush down eighteen flights of stairs. Every so often she'd check the stairwell exit to see what floor she was on. It seemed like forever until she had made it to the first floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Finally, floor one. Ainsley here I come.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Turning on her heel, Kimbra left the stairwell at a light run. She dodged through the corridors, pushed by the other EcoTech employees. To her surprise, Bud already stood in the middle of the lobby. His hands tucked in his pants pocket as he waited patiently, watching the front door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bud taunted her as soon as she entered his line of view. “Took you long enough.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How did you get here before me?” Kimbra breathlessly asked, positioning herself beside him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That's just a Flud secret, sweetheart.” He answered with a mischievous smirk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She gave him an unimpressed look. “Tell me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pressing the buttons again just resets them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dammit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And to think, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you're</span>
  </em>
  <span> supposed to be the smart one.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t act all cocky about it, you jerk.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You're smiling.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just think it's a nice day.” Bud said, his grin sharpened as he stared at Kimbra.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It would be if you weren't here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bud almost snapped out a reply, but didn't as he spotted Dr. Ainsley standing at the door entrance, chatting away with the guard. He hadn't noticed either of them yet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kimbra acknowledged this as well and kicked Bud's ankle in her attempts to get to Dr. Ainsley first. She was desperate.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bud yelped in response and rubbed his now throbbing ankle. “Ow! Knock it off!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She briskly walked to the front door, with Bud following close behind. They made it to Ainsley at the same time. Kimbra wished she had kicked him harder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The aged reptile beamed brightly once he saw the pair. “Ah, Mr. Flud! Wonderful to see you this morning!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ainsley.” Bud nodded, making sure Kimbra knew that the doctor had greeted him first. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dr. Ainsley then looked to Kimbra, and back to the salesman. “I figured you two would be upstairs bickering as usual.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bud glanced down at Kimbra, and met her clearly annoyed eyes. “No, everything is going… well.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Splendid!” Ainsley gleefully placed his hands together. “I'll let you two be on your merry ol' way then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He started to head upstairs, but Kimbra stopped him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sir, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span> don't keep making me work with this conman,” She began, pointing a finger in Bud's direction. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kimbra dear, be nice. That's an awfully rude thing to say about Mr. Flud.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I've said a lot worse.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes sir,” her shoulders drooped in defeat, not wanting to argue with her boss.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bud sneered once Ainsley was out of earshot. “Someone is in trouble.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut up.”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don't know why he trusts you so much.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'm trustworthy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>As trustworthy as a rattlesnake,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Kimbra snickered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She motioned for him to follow her, but she didn't mention where they were going. Instead, she asked him a question. “Why didn't you rat me out?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because I want this to work.” Bud replied, walking alongside her. “Just know that I can, but I choose not to this time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well played, Flud.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you.” He appreciated the rare compliment. “Where are you taking me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kimbra stopped at a desk. Behind it was some equipment and a camera. “Earl will take your photo, and I'll log in your info for the card.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do I have to smile?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No? It's not a yearbook photo.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She disappeared into the back room while Earl took Bud's picture. Several minutes later, she emerged with an ID card attached to a lanyard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Here's your ID badge.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You spelled my last name wrong.” Bud frowned as he examined the card. “It's F-L-U-D. Not F-L-O-O-D.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kimbra let out a small sigh. “I frankly don't care enough, okay?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She did it on purpose to piss him off. It was funny to her at the time. Still is.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bud put the lanyard around his neck. “Don't you have a Ph.D.?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then why the hell can't you spell?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My Ph.D. has nothing to do with the fact your last name is spelled in a ridiculous manner,” said Kimbra, getting a little defensive.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you have a Ph.D. in any way?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Minding my own damn business.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bud forced a smile. “Your snarky remarks aren't cute.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'm not trying to be cute. Do you want to see the testing facility or not?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He clenched his jaw to keep from throwing out an insult. “Yes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They rode the elevator in silence. Kimbra could feel Bud still fuming over the spelling error. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It halted to a complete stop.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Level Zero.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kimbra strode out first, already giving Bud a tour of the place. “This is our below ground testing facility.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn't as showy as the other floors of EcoTech. It was more modest, more plain. The air down there smelled of hot metal and iodine. Kimbra spent the next twenty minutes showing him around. Bud enjoyed listening to her ramble on about what all the facility offered. When she wasn't arguing with him, she was pretty pleasant to be around.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kimbra eventually opened a secure looking door. “Here's the main monitor area.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She led Bud inside a room filled with computers, chairs, and equipment. Dozens of red and green lights blinked in synchronization. A large window stood as the front wall, revealing the room beside them. Individuals in lab coats were working in the chamber. Tinkering with technology or going over papers. Sometimes Kimbra would come across them slacking or doing something completely irresponsible.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was one of those days. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kimbra stood at the window, pressed the microphone, and leaned down. “Can you recalibrate the laser and try it on glass?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The lab boys then huddled together, discussing something. One stepped out from behind the group to address her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry, that's not possible right now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She sighed, far enough, so the mic didn't pick it up. “And why not?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dr. Wulfe, we need organic props to test it on. We can't recalibrate unless we experiment on that first.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kimbra tapped her chin and thought for a moment. “I guess we can just shoot the laser at Jeremy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” came a voice from across the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jeremy it's for science.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bud leaned towards her, speaking in a low tone. “You aren't really going to shoot one of your employees, are you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You mean Ainsley's employees, and no. I just have to scare them sometimes to keep them in line.” She shut the microphone off. “They like to goof off down here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It seems like you run the place yourself.” The hound sat in a nearby chair. “It's why I said 'your employee.'</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I might be the only one who cares enough.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess that's why you're so important here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Important.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kimbra's face flushed a pale pink. She turned her head to avoid Bud seeing. Never had anyone ever considered her important. The word stuck to her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Important.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All her life Kimbra had been pushed to the side. Classmates always picked her last during games at school. People took her hard work for granted. No one ever made her feel like she mattered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yet Bud called her important. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>An alarm blared as the entirety of the testing lab was bathed in a crimson light. It started Kimbra out of her deep thinking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bud stood up, looking at her with worry. “That's bad right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>great</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Kimbra motioned with her hand at the window. “Jeffrey is on fire again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The lab boys scrambled around the workshop, grabbing a nearby sheet and a fire extinguisher. They managed to put Jeffrey out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kimbra tapped on the glass with a hand. “Hey, we don't pay you morons to play around!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her voice then shifted to a tone of concern. “Is he okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One of the lab boys held a thumbs up. “Yeah, he's fine!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Amy, go take Jeffrey up to the infirmary,” Kimbra barked out an order. “The rest of you get back to work.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A collective groan went up, and the workers departed to their stations.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The scientist turned to Bud, not sounding or looking the least bit surprised by the incident. “Ready?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh… yeah.” He replied, and followed her out of the room and back towards the elevator. “Does that often happen?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sometimes,” She stepped into the elevator after him and pressed the eighteen button. “Usually the research department lets some airborne virus loose or the development team breaks something.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then she chuckled. “Or I cause a citywide blackout.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, you're behind those?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just five of them.” She felt his judgment and quickly defended herself. “I don't do it on purpose! EcoTech's power regulator has been malfunctioning the last year, and sometimes our projects zap power from the city.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can't you fix it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'm not qualified, and the administration wants to replace it, which will take three months.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They sound uptight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don't even get me started.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bud went silent, (as he had nothing further to say) his dark eyes lingered on the elevator's counter, which currently sat on the number ten. Kimbra studied him for a minute. His face appeared fatigued, his long ears drooped over his shoulders. His black hair slicked back with a type of gel. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kimbra had seen him on television countless times. And actually seeing him in person was… </span>
  <em>
    <span>odd</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She didn't think that he stood so tall. (Or maybe she's just short.) She might have even considered him attractive, if she didn't despise him so much for his capitalist ways. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not that she'd ever admit that to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Eighteen floor.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They departed from the elevator and went down the corridor, back to Kimbra's office. She opened the door and stepped in first. Bud didn't know why she was in such a hurry all of a sudden.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I need to find those spreadsheets for tomorrow's meeting.” She walked over to the filing cabinet in hopes she stuck them in there. “Evening Herald.” Kimbra stood on her tiptoes and inspected the small fern that sat on top of the cabinet before she bothered looking for those papers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then she heard Bud speak up from behind her. “I have a question.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The answer is no.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I haven't even asked the question!” He huffed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ask it then.” She looked over the leaves, making sure Herald was healthy. He was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can you meet me tomorrow for lunch at McKelland's Café?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah… no can do.” Kimbra gestured to a pile of papers that lay messily on her desk. “My schedule for the next few days is full.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And I'm not interested in dating right now. Especially not you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kimbra, it's to discuss the project.” His tone grew impatient. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I. Am. Busy.” She explained once again, more slowly this time in the hopes it would actually sink in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It's. For. Your. Project.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Fine.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah... whatever,” She waved her hand, signaling Bud to leave. “Don't let the door hit you on the way out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Remember. Twelve o'clock sharp. McKelland's Café.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I said yeah, whatever.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kimbra watched as the door closed behind her sponsor. A wave of relief washed over her now that she was finally alone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was no way in hell she would have lunch with the likes of Bud Flud.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>***</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The following day, Kimbra still hadn't found the spreadsheets. She was convinced they just vanished out of existence. Dr. Artis wouldn't be too pleased to hear that. He'd scold her for never keeping up with anything and order her to redo them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kimbra needed to find them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A slight knock at the door startled her. It opened and in walked Bud. He slammed it shut behind him, and the sound echoed in the hallway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Someone is in a mood.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyebrows furrowed. “I have gone above and beyond to make this partnership with you work.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, he's mad. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kimbra stopped searching. “Pardon?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You were supposed to meet me at McKelland's Café at twelve o'clock sharp.” Bud scowled at her as he glanced at his wristwatch. “Do you know what time it is? It's three in the afternoon!” He approached the desk and stood there, waiting for an explanation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry, it must have slipped my mind,” she sounded almost sympathetic.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bud didn't fall for her fake politeness. “I sat there all by myself and waited for you for over two hours!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thought of Bud sitting alone at a booth and waiting for her made Kimbra want to laugh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aw…” Kimbra rested her elbows on the desk, tilting her head slightly at Bud as she gave him a face of pity. “You're just mad that a pretty girl stood you up, huh? Is your pride hurt?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bud opened his mouth to shoot back a nasty comment, but he only shook his head. “No, I'm upset that you flaked on me when we had plans to discuss the C.O.R.E project!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Someone is mad.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bud placed his hands on the desk and leaned down towards her. His face only inches from hers. “Stop trying to sabotage my sponsorship. I know exactly what you're doing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They stayed there for a few moments in complete silence. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kimbra could only smile and continue the teasing. “You want to kiss me so bad right now, don't you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bud was taken aback by the remark. He straightened up, getting out of Kimbra's face. “I want you to stop being a pain in the ass to work with!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” She picked a pen up, signing off on papers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And why not?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well... for one thing, I find you absolutely intolerable.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Intolerable? You're calling </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> intolerable?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kimbra nodded. “I am.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh well, that's just </span>
  <em>
    <span>hilarious</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Bud faked a laugh. “You say I'm the intolerable one, but I'm trying so hard to get along with you!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We have nothing in common. Why should we get along?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We have plenty of things in common.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah, right. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The only thing we have in common is we're both canines. That's all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And we're both stubborn as hell,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Kimbra commented to herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bud noticed a shelf against the wall behind Kimbra's desk. Glancing at her for a second, Bud stepped over to it, inspecting it. He hoped to find something they had in common to prove his point. Several books on physics, chemicals, and a few mystery novels were housed on the top rack. He pulled out one that caught his interest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>'Nightingale: Whispers in the Dark'</em>
  </b>
  <span> by L.R Wulfe. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So you're into mystery novels?”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” Kimbra gave the book a quick glance before returning to her papers. “It's my dad's, he's a writer.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait…” Bud blinked, trying to process the information. “Your dad is </span>
  <em>
    <span>the</span>
  </em>
  <span> L.R Wulfe?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>L.R Wulfe, a highly respected author who usually wrote in the mystery novel genre, created one of the best-selling series in St. Canard, </span>
  <b>
    <em>Nightingale</em>
  </b>
  <span>. Years ago, he stopped writing out of nowhere. The last installment of </span>
  <b>
    <em>Nightingale</em>
  </b>
  <span>, </span>
  <b>
    <em>Nightingale: Daybreak</em>
  </b>
  <span>, had ended on a thrilling cliffhanger. It had been over ten years since he published the book. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And yet, L.R still hadn't released the last edition of the series. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kimbra nodded her head. “I figured it's obvious considering the last name.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In Bud's opinion, there could be tons of people with the last name Wulfe. Not everyone with the name surname was related. A simple mistake, really.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why did he quit writing?” Bud asked, shoving the book back into its place.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My mom was sick for a long time. My dad went on hiatus during her last year.” Kimbra answered, swallowing the lump that was forming in her throat. “She eventually passed when I was thirteen and he just… sort of stopped writing out of grief, I suppose.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” was all Bud could think of to say. He then carefully searched for the right words. He didn't want to be insensitive towards a topic such as losing a family member. “I… I'm sorry about that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was a long time ago, I'm fine.” Kimbra brushed it off. She appeared unfazed, but could have easily been locking her emotions away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The CEO figured he should quickly change the subject. His eyes lingered back over the shelves for another conversation starter. Among the books and trinkets sat a baseball. Some writing decorated it, which Bud assumed was an autograph.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He picked the ball up and turned to Kimbra. “You like baseball?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do.” Her tone said that it should be obvious.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See? We have something in common!” He inspected the ball further. “Wait...it's signed by Rickey Flynn?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kimbra kept writing. “Yes, he's the star pitcher for the Condors.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bud made a face of disgust as he set the baseball back down on the shelf. “You're a </span>
  <em>
    <span>Condors</span>
  </em>
  <span> fan?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She paused and looked at him. “Yeah, is that a problem or something?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'm a Jackals fan myself.” He brushed his palm off on his suit coat, paying no mind to her. Touching a baseball autographed by a Condors player forever tainted his hand. He created a mental note to wash it later under scalding water. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kimbra bit the inside of her cheek as she continued signing the stack of paperwork on her desk. “Why am I not surprised?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bud, for once, agreed with her. “I mean... come on. It explains everything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The scientist raised an eyebrow as she still held the pen in her hand. “Explains what?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The tension between us.” He motioned to himself and then to her with his right index finger. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tension?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He better not say something gross.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, it's why we can't stand each other.” Bud sounded so sure of himself. As if he knew why they were at each other throats. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he didn't.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'm hostile towards you because you're a no good sleazy businessman. Not because we support rival baseball teams.” Kimbra attempted to return to her paperwork. As long as Bud Flud was in her office, she doubted she'd get anything done. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was such a pain in her side. Like a splinter or something. Or an impacted wisdom tooth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bud sighed. “I don't know what it's going to take to convince you I'm a perfectly honest businessman.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, that's a good one. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He claimed to be an honest man, but that was a blatant lie. His lies were slowly piling up, and some day they'd get knocked over and crash all around him. Kimbra hoped she'd be there to witness such an event. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She laughed as she set the pen down. “You? An honest businessman? Flud, please spare me the jokes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know nothing about me! All you've done since we met is constantly degrade and judge me!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>True, but Kimbra knew how people were. Most only cared about making a profit. Few individuals actually cared for helping others. It seemed the entire world was selfish and self-absorbed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine,” Kimbra sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. “Tell me about yourself.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“About me?” He dumbfoundedly pointed to himself, not really knowing what to say. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The purple haired canine slowly nodded. “You're the only other person in this room.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bud had to stop and think for a moment. He didn't expect Kimbra to actually want to know about him. For once, he didn't speak. That question did silence him for a moment as he had to think about the answer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kimbra threw up her hands in frustration. “You can't even give me an answer for that!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'm thinking!” He scrambled, trying to find at least one interesting fact about himself. Deep down he was now desperate to get out of this conversation. “Uhhh, I recently quit smoking.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Boring.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My birthday is in May.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Again. Boring.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, you think you can do better?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kimbra scoffed. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> I can.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go ahead then, prove your point.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I will. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I graduated at the top of my class. I'm from a town up north that's over a thousand miles from here.” Kimbra wondered why she was telling him this. Maybe out of pettiness to prove she's more interesting. “My natural hair color is white, I just dye it because—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kimbra stopped. She noticed Bud staring out the window, paying her no mind. An empty billboard a few blocks down held his gaze.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She waved her hand, trying to get his attention. “Hello?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bud didn't reply. He kept looking out the window, into the city skyline. Uninterested.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have you heard a thing I said?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He finally answered, still peering out. “I learned to tune you out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You literally said 'prove your point',</span>
  </em>
  <span> Kimbra mentally grumbled. “Bud.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Say it again.” Bud turned to her, leaning against the glass.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I said—” Kimbra almost repeated herself. “Never mind.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For once, she wished someone would listen to her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, go ahead.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I don't see why you'd care. You're only toying with my feelings like it's some kind of sick game.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'm not—” Bud began to defend himself, but decided against it. He knew she only wanted to argue with him. It was a waste of time. “If you don't mind, I have errands to run.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatever.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, and tomorrow at lunch, we're meeting at my office to discuss the project.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why at your office?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have so many documents to go over, so I'll be there all day doing that."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'm not setting foot in there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes you are.” Bud persisted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I'm not.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Guess I'll have to tell Ainsley about how you've been treating me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>How mature. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine. I'll be there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bud gave her one last smirk before he said goodbye and left.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kimbra wished she hadn't come into work today.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tonight was one of those nights where Kimbra couldn't get her brain to shut up. It replayed her past over and over in an endless loop.</p><p>Since she couldn't sleep, she resorted to catching up on paperwork. Time was <em> never </em> on her side. She either had too much of it and felt dreadfully lonely, or she didn't have enough and overworked herself into the late hours of the night. Watching life from the sidelines was something Kimbra had grown accustomed to. </p><p>All she ever did was work. </p><p>But that was okay because she was helping people. Making the world a better place to live. Saving the environment and countless lives. Kimbra often had to remind herself that her sacrifices were for the greater good. She moved to the city for a chance at creating something bigger than herself. </p><p>When she was a little girl, her father, Loren, regularly spoke of St. Canard. He had traveled here for college back in his youth. Although he went back to their hometown afterwards, Loren swore his heart was in St. Canard. He boasted about city life, how well their education system was, and how remarkable the people were. </p><p>It was all a load of crap in Kimbra's opinion. The city did nothing for her. </p><p>She wanted to think that her life would be different here. Which it had been, but not in the way she preferred. For her, it was lonelier than Brittlesburg. Quieter. Not in the sound you hear kind of sense, as St. Canard was triple the size of her hometown. But in the way that she didn't know many people here. She had at the most a total of three friends. She barely ever saw one of them anymore, and the other two are just co-workers. (If you can call your co-workers your friends.)</p><p>In Brittlesburg, Kimbra knew almost everyone. She couldn't walk down the street without someone yelling good morning at her. Dennis McKinnon, owner of the general store, would always ask about her day when she came in to buy her father's writing supplies. Mary Kinney, the post woman, brought Kimbra those famous sugar cookies of hers whenever she dropped off a package. Arthur Canfield, the mayor, liked to tease her and ask when she would finally leave their little hometown. Each friendly face she'd pass by would recognize her and take the time to talk to her. </p><p>St. Canard never offered her that. The most she got from the city residents were glares and inappropriate comments. It was too hot in the summer and incredibly noisy during the rush hours. It wasn't home. It was just a polluted city full of creeps and broken dreams. </p><p>Kimbra had everything she could ever want back in Brittlesburg. She didn't have that much in St. Canard. Just a job that made no impact on the world. Sometimes she questioned why she even bothered with it.</p><p>The canine felt her eyes start to droop. She should probably turn in before she made a mistake. The words on the papers blurred all together, and the charts were becoming fuzzy. Her head was filled with nothing but static, which made it even more difficult to concentrate.</p><p>She rubbed her eyes and stood up from the table. After C.O.R.E, Kimbra wanted to go home. Permanently. She had very few things in her life that she actually felt secure about. One of them was her hometown.</p><p>She needed to go home.</p><p>Back to Brittlesburg.</p><p>***</p><p>Morning came to the city skyline in the blink of an eye. Kimbra felt like she barely slept. She tossed and turned all night, her own mind troubling her. She kept thinking about past scenarios that made her cringe and of her more current problems. They weren't very pleasant thoughts. She couldn't remember the last time she had a decent one. Probably not since her ice skating accident when she was small.</p><p>Something she'd rather forget.</p><p>Ever since that water salesman came into her life, Kimbra noticed herself stressing out more. Her work was starting to slack. Paperwork began piling up faster than before. </p><p>She'd overseen hundreds of projects. Projects that were of the utmost importance and relied on a determined mind to lead them. But working with the owner of that water bottle company was proving to be her biggest challenge yet. </p><p>And today she had to go into the depths of hell, to Bud's dreadful water bottling factory.</p><p>***</p><p>A moderately large building housed the Sparkling Crystal Pure Flud Water company in the industry park of St. Canard. A sign sat on the front lawn, with the Flud Water logo (Kimbra found it hard to figure out exactly what the blue symbol was, but she assumed it had to be a wave or something.) A map of the facilities rested under the logo. </p><p>Kimbra winced at the entrance, in disbelief she would be stepping foot in the place. Part of her said to leave and forget about Bud. The better half of her urged her to get along with the salesman. She said she'd be here to discuss the project. Yes, she had a small bit of hatred for him, but he was <em> still </em> her sponsor. Kimbra at <em> least </em> had to make an effort if she wanted C.O.R.E to be completed.</p><p>Letting out a stressed sigh, Kimbra approached the front entrance. A young clerk (a lovely orange feline) stood at the door and popped her gum, appearing uninterested in the world around her. Her eyes focused on the clipboard in her hand. </p><p>Kimbra cleared her throat. “Uh, excuse me?”</p><p>“Name?” The clerk asked, not bothering to look up.</p><p>“My name?”</p><p>“Name.” She repeated.</p><p>“Kimbra Wulfe.”</p><p>She glanced over the paper on the clipboard and scribbled on it with a black pen. “Mr. Flud said to wait for him in the conference room.”</p><p>“Oh… uh… okay. Thanks?”</p><p>The feline only nodded her head, resuming back to popping her gum. Kimbra opened the door and stepped into the main lobby. The atmosphere was quiet but friendly, much to Kimbra's surprise. She had expected a more sinister appearance. </p><p>The factory's lobby wasn't all that breathtaking or anything. Someone painted the walls an off-white color. Advertisement posters of Bud were placed among pictures of St. Canard's popular scenic spots. A large potted plant sat in the far-right corner of the room. It all looked ordinary. Plain. Boring.</p><p>
  <em> Just like Bud. </em>
</p><p>She noticed a small group of factory employees chatting away, some sitting down in blue chairs or just standing. Kimbra then realized she had no idea where the conference room was. The clerk didn't bother to mention that part. Bud hadn't told her a single thing about his company's factory either. She was clueless.</p><p>
  <em> Just ask one of Bud's employees. They obviously know where it is. </em>
</p><p>The scientist mustered the courage to talk to the group. She walked over, tightly clenching her fists out of sheer nervousness. They didn't notice her walk up, being too invested in their conversation.</p><p>Kimbra spoke up,  fearing that her voice would come out in a squeak. “Excuse me?”</p><p>The group grew silent and shifted their attention towards the stranger.</p><p>Everyone looking at her made Kimbra uncomfortable.  “Do any of you know where the conference room is?” She nervously smiled. </p><p>A tall muscular tiger answered. “Down the hall, last door on the right.”</p><p>“Thanks.” She politely nodded and turned around, heading for the hallway. </p><p>
  <em> See, that wasn't so bad. You just overthink too much.  </em>
</p><p>Kimbra overheard the men eagerly whispering behind her back. She didn't even want to know what they were talking about. Probably just office gossip. Her co-workers at EcoTech were the same. They'd talk about rival companies or focus on the latest rumor. </p><p>They were only wasting their time with such nonsense.</p><p>The canine made her way through the lengthy hallway. It was bare, besides a few certificates and photos hanging on the walls. It appeared that Bud took any minor achievement that the company accomplished and framed it. Something to feed that growing ego of his. Kimbra skimmed over a few articles as she walked.</p><p>
  <b> <em>New water bottling facility has been constructed.</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>St. Canard officials okay Flud Water bottling plan.</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>Proposed expansion of the Flud water bottling plant is approved. </em> </b>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>Flud Water is recognized as top seller in the area.</em> </b>
</p><p>Those were just a few of the many newspaper clippings that proudly hug on the walls. The company was voted St. Canard's first choice in water, the last few years. The city's residents would choose their favorite local businesses each year, and the winner received a certificate and bragging rights. EcoTech had never won, usually losing to their rival company, SpecCorp.</p><p>Kimbra finally found the conference room, exactly where the men said it would be. The door was open, so naturally Kimbra peeked inside. A large table stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by black office chairs. The front wall held a large screen that currently flickered the blue Flud Water logo.</p><p>Kimbra took a seat close by the door. Hopefully Bud wouldn't be too long, and she could get out of here. Then again, the silence of the room was a nice change. Back at EcoTech, she had to deal with constant knocks at her door. Technicians and the research department were always barging in, asking her to sign something. They always went to her as her office was closer, and the fact that the other department directors were more stubborn. She attempted to be more stern and not let her co-workers step all over her, but occasionally she'd slip up. It was hard.</p><p>She didn't know why Dr. Ainsley even offered her the job in the first place. All she ever did was screw things up.</p><p>Kimbra leaned back in the chair, savoring the peace and quiet before a sharp knock at the door startled her. It opened, and Bud's head poked into the room.</p><p>“Morning sunshine.” He seemed to be in a good mood today as a smile was planted on his face.</p><p>
  <em> Oh, it's way too early for this. </em>
</p><p>The cheerful attitude immediately made Kimbra frown. “Knock it off with the nicknames.” </p><p>“Someone isn't a morning person.” He stepped into the room, leaving the door open. His smile faded at her attitude.</p><p>“I'm not a hot weather kind of person,” she mumbled, partly excusing her sour mood due to the current heat wave that plagued the city. </p><p>“So you actually like something for once?”</p><p>“And what is that supposed to mean?”</p><p>“You're always moody and seem to dislike everything.”</p><p>“I'm moody only around you.”</p><p>That made him snicker. “That's not what I heard.”</p><p>Kimbra stood from the chair, getting more irritated by the second. “What have you heard?”</p><p>“Nothing.”</p><p>“So you're resorting to gossip now?”</p><p>
  <em> Of course, just like his employees. </em>
</p><p>“No!” Bud lied. </p><p>Kimbra couldn't help but make a little snort of disbelief in response. “Oh, you are such a bad liar!”</p><p>“I just heard… from someone… that you tend to be a <em> tad </em> bit moody around everyone.”</p><p>“I'm not!”</p><p>“I highly disagree.”</p><p>“I came down here to go over my project, not to be made fun of!”</p><p>Hearing the impatience in her voice, Bud wisely changed the subject. “Do you want to see the place first?”</p><p>
  <em> Not really. </em>
</p><p>Kimbra dropped the argument in hopes of getting through this faster, so she could return to work. “I guess.” </p><p>“Good. Follow me.” Bud held his arm out for Kimbra to take a hold of. </p><p>She looked down with disdain at the arm Bud held out and ignored it. He rolled his eyes and dropped it as he began to show the scientist around. Everyone he passed immediately moved out of his way. It was like his employees respected him or something. </p><p>
  <em> Oh yeah, he pays them. Of course, they're a bunch of suck-ups. They don't want to lose their jobs. </em>
</p><p>The group of men she had passed on her way to the conference room still stood around, chatting. Kimbra felt their eyes follow her as she walked by. She brushed it out of her mind and followed the salesman through a door that led into a large factory. </p><p>Bud stopped at the entrance, holding his arms out wide as if he was presenting something grand. “And here's where the magic happens.”</p><p>She raised an eyebrow. “You mean where you just bottle water?”</p><p>“Well, when you say it like that-”</p><p>“It's not that interesting.”</p><p>Bud dropped his arms to his sides. “You really are a drag.”</p><p>“Harsh.”</p><p>As they walked side by side, Bud rambled on about the factory which came off more like boasting in Kimbra's opinion. Every word and movement of his looked prideful. Kimbra hated it. Someone as sleazy as Bud Flud shouldn't revel in the fact he's only successful due to ripping off others. He oversells his water and probably underplays his employees. </p><p>The mark of a true capitalist.</p><p>Kimbra despised him even more as the seconds passed. She wanted to tell him off and name off the reasons why he's a plague on society.</p><p>
  <em> No. Embarrass him. Break his ego. It would impact him greater than any statistic or moral you say. </em>
</p><p>Kimbra decided to stump him with a question. Just to see if he <em> actually </em> knew what he was doing or if his employees do most of the work for him. </p><p>And to take a shot at that inflated ego of his.</p><p>“How do you purify your water?” She spoke up, still close behind him.</p><p>He stopped walking, looked at her, and took a moment to process the fact that she took an interest in his work. “Reverse osmosis.”</p><p>Kimbra clapped her hands together in fake joy. “Oh, you actually know something!”</p><p>“It's my line of work, of course I do.” Bud said, not picking up on her sarcasm. Kimbra found his obliviousness delightful. It meant he would be easy to mess with. </p><p>“And what kind of minerals are you adding?”</p><p>“Calcium chloride, sodium bicarbonate, and magnesium sulfate.”</p><p>“Oh, and you have a brain after all!”</p><p>This time the businessman picked up on what she was doing. He frowned, shook his head, and continued walking. “You're such a mean person, I swear.”</p><p>Kimbra didn't comment further, as she did consider that partially true. She wasn't exactly known as the nicest person in St. Canard. People called her plenty of names behind her back. She had her reasons for being closed off and sour. It wasn't anyone's concern as to why she's this way.</p><p>Before they went up the stairs to the platform, Bud pulled a bottle from the convertor, offering it to Kimbra.</p><p>“Ew, no.” She declined, crinkling her nose in distaste. </p><p>A heavy sigh came from Bud's mouth. “It's just water.”</p><p>“But it's <em> your </em> water.”</p><p>“Would hearing the water treatment and bottling process make you feel better about it?” He set it back down and started up the steps with his guest close behind. </p><p>“No, it sounds boring.”</p><p>“Hey, this is a very dangerous line of work. It isn't boring.”</p><p>“How?” Kimbra asked uninterested. </p><p>Bud hesitated on answering, and then looked over the railing. He motioned with his hand at the vat below. “You could fall into one of the vats and drown, I guess?”</p><p>“Only a complete moron could manage to fall into a vat full of water.” The scientist leaned slightly over the rail, squinting her eyes as she looked down into the vat.  “There's literally guard rails.”</p><p>“Some of my warehouse employees could probably manage to do it.”</p><p>Kimbra laughed. He actually managed to make her laugh. “I really hope you have a good lawyer then.”</p><p>“Yeah I have lawyers, don't worry about it.”</p><p>“I won't. I highly doubt anyone would if I'm being completely honest.”</p><p>“Thanks for bruising my ego.”  </p><p>“I'm <em> so </em> sorry I didn't take your little feelings into consideration.” She said in the most unapologetic tone that Bud had ever heard. “It isn't my fault your ego is so fragile.”</p><p>Bud didn't comment further as he led Kimbra back to the corridor, into his office. Once they entered, he sat behind his desk, and gave Kimbra that iconic smile of his.</p><p>“Have a seat.”</p><p>***</p><p>The rest of the week passed uneventfully. Bud barely stopped by the office due to being invested in a personal matter. Kimbra didn't need him anyway. All he'd do is get in the way or be annoying. He appeared to take delight in doing both of those things. So, she'd sit at her desk, watching the world go by when there wasn't much to do. Her only actual friend, Trisha, was busy with running an antique shop. Her family had their own priorities. Outside of work, Kimbra didn't have much of a life. Even work this week slowed down to almost a halt due to late shipments and delayed paperwork.</p><p>A sunny Thursday is when things started to pick up at EcoTech. Kimbra began the day by filing the last of yesterday’s lab reports. It was a tedious process. The boys down in the testing facility weren't very trustworthy with reports. She decided to just do it herself. As some people say, if you want it done right you gotta do it yourself.</p><p>She set the pen down, sat back, and stretched her arms. A heavy sigh left her mouth as her eyes scanned the room of her office. Signs of her accomplishments, awards and framed diplomas, filled the walls and shelves. She should have been proud of all that she has done. But she wasn't. Kimbra still felt like she had more to do. More to prove to the world. She needed this project to be successful.  </p><p>Prove to that greedy sorry excuse of a scientist that her project wasn't a mockery. They had crossed paths years ago, he probably didn't even remember her. </p><p>She hadn't forgotten the day her idol crushed her dreams.</p><p>Kimbra shook the painful memory away, not wanting to dwell on the subject any longer. Maybe that's why she despised Bud so much. He was a constant reminder of a man that she used to look up to. They both were greedy and had no regards for anyone but themselves. It hurt that Bud only sponsored the project out of pure selfishness. Getting rid of him shouldn't be this hard.</p><p>As it turned out, Kimbra underestimated that scam artist. She stood up from the desk and stepped across the room, over to the window. She pulled the chain, raising the blinds up to let in some light. Sunlight poured into the room, coating the walls. She almost went back to her desk until something caught her eye. The billboard a few blocks away had finally been leased out. Someone plastered a shiny new advertisement onto it.</p><p>
  <em> The hell is THAT? </em>
</p><p>Kimbra squinted and frowned once she realized what was on the billboard. </p><p>
  <em> That son of — </em>
</p><p>The opening of her office door interrupted Kimbra. Bud stepped into the room with a cup of coffee in hand. “Morning Kimmie.”</p><p>“Oh, don't you even call me Kimmie.” She continued to glare out the window, not bothering to give him a glance. “No one calls me that.”</p><p>“I do.”</p><p>She looked at him, frowning. “We are <em> not </em> doing pet names.”</p><p>“I mean, you can call me Buddy if you want.”</p><p>“I'm not calling you that.”</p><p>“Aw come on, we can do that thing where partners call each other cute little nicknames,” he added which earned him an eye roll. </p><p>“We aren't partners.”</p><p>“Dr. Ainsley says otherwise.”</p><p>
  <em> He's only trying to get a rise out of you, don't fall for it.  </em>
</p><p>She placed her hands together and took in a deep breath. “Anyway, I have a question for you.”</p><p>“Ask away.”</p><p>Kimbra pointed to the window, in the direction of the billboard “What the hell is that?”</p><p>Bud looked to where the scientist was pointing. And he smiled.</p><p>“You like the billboard I bought?” He leaned against the glass and proudly lifted his head, copying the advertisement image. “They captured my likeness pretty well, didn't they?”</p><p>“You just did that to spite me!” </p><p>Bud faked a gasp as he placed a hand on his chest. “I would never do such a thing.”</p><p>
  <em> Liar. </em>
</p><p>“It's literally within view of my office! I have to see your face every time I look out my window now!”</p><p>“Lucky you.” He smirked. The man looked way too pleased to have gotten a rise out of her.</p><p>“I want it taken down.”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Bud.”</p><p>“I'm free to do what I want with my money. And I wanted my face plastered on a billboard.”</p><p>“You just did it to be petty.”</p><p>“I'm just killing two birds with one stone.” He grinned, looking even more pleased with himself. “Can you blame a guy?”</p><p>
  <em> Yes. </em>
</p><p>“Get out.”</p><p>“You aren't really that worked up over a billboard, are you?”</p><p>Kimbra spoke louder this time. “Get out of my office, or I'll have security throw you out.”</p><p>“Like how you had them tackle me at the door?”</p><p>“You really aren't going to let that go, are you?” She refrained from making a crude comment. </p><p>“Because you're insane! Who does that to someone?”</p><p>
  <em> I do. </em>
</p><p>“This project is very important to me, okay?” Kimbra let out a pathetic whine. “I just think it'd do better with someone else as a sponsor.”</p><p>Her sad little act didn't work on Bud. He only frowned. “When are you going to get it through your head that I'm not going anywhere?”</p><p>“When you finally realize I don't want to work with you!”</p><p>A soft snort left his mouth. “Like you have a choice.”</p><p>“No Bud, I don't have a choice. Unlike you, I'm forced to work alongside you because I'm trying to make something meaningful out of my work.” She looked back over to the eyesore of a billboard. “And you're only here out of pure selfishness.”</p><p>“My reasons for sponsoring you aren't anyone's business but my own.”</p><p>“But—”</p><p>“No, you should be focusing on C.O.R.E, but instead you're feuding with me, and it's causing your work to slack.” Bud said, scolding her like a child as he made his way towards the door. “My intentions don't affect you or the project, so you really should redirect what you put time into, sweetheart.”</p><p>“Are you done scolding me?”</p><p>Bud sighed, realizing nothing he said made an impact on the scientist. “See you tomorrow, Kimbra.”</p><p>She didn't respond. Bud left the room, shutting the office door behind him. The sounds of his footsteps disappeared down the hall, and Kimbra was left alone.</p><p>
  <em> Finally. </em>
</p><p>She glimpsed once more at the billboard from across the block. The smug face of the arrogant business executive glared right back at her. He looked as if he had won this round. </p><p>Kimbra didn't know how she'd deal with this man for seven months.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Sunset Heights.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>An elegant welcome sign stood on the outskirts of St. Canard. It greeted each visitor who traveled to the upper class gated community. Bud moved there shortly after his water bottling company took off. It gave him a peaceful hideaway from the hustle of life. There he could forget his problems and stress of the day.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Or at least, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>tried</span>
  </em>
  <span> to forget. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted</span>
  </em>
  <span> to forget. But things have a funny way of lingering in your mind. They liked to sit around and pester you throughout the day. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bud had left EcoTech not long after the little billboard quarrel with Dr. Wulfe. His mind wanted to busy himself with work to avoid thinking about his feelings, but he knew overworking would only result in even </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span> stress. And more stress would lead to finding a way to cope with it, which meant he'd start his smoking habit again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A habit he was trying to break for his own wellbeing. His doctor warned him of the consequences if he kept it up. So Bud obeyed, and kicked the habit… for now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bud dug the house keys out of his suit coat pocket as he stepped down the walkway that led to the front door of his house. He swiftly unlocked the door and stepped inside as he flipped the lights on. The inside was rather large and surprisingly clean, like the house of someone who spent most of his time away from it. (Which Bud did due to his time being taken up by work and the housekeeper he hired kept the place in check.) The day's dying light rays stream in through the windows, pushing their ways past the half-closed blinds.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At first glance, the place looked dreadfully dull. Bud never bothered decorating all that much except for a few fake plants. Why should he decorate in the first place? He didn't care that much about decor anyhow. He only bought what was needed and left the rest untouched. There was no point in fussing over useless objects. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His jacket shrugged off his shoulders. He muttered to himself as he hung it on a nearby coat rack. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It had been a long day for the CEO. Going into the office of that uptight scientist each day stressed him out. It was as though he had walked into a freezer, the atmosphere icy and uninviting, as was the frigid blue glare coming from Kimbra. She despised him and he knew this. Nothing he did has won her over yet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Never had he expected to meet someone as stubborn as him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don't see why she has such an issue with me.” Bud mused out loud, mostly to break the silence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Besides, it wasn't his fault that Miss Know-It-All clearly had some issues. Kimbra had accused him of using the project for his gain. She'd been dead on, but he protested. No one needed to know the truth behind his motives for sponsoring EcoTech's project. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>'Do you even care about this project?'</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>'You're only here out of pure selfishness.'</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>'I rather have someone else sponsoring this project.'</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her words played in an endless loop in his head. She was persistent in forcing him out of the project.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bud exhaled and ran a hand through his tousled hair. He sat down on the window seat in the living room, resting back and propping his tired feet up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes caught a mere glimpse of his reflection in the glass. Up close, Bud noted how tired he looked. He had dark circles under his eyes. His usually well-groomed hair was now a mess due to constantly running his hands through it. Ever since the company's recent downfall, his health started taking a toll. Endless nights he'd stay up, burying himself with work in hopes of landing back on his feet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nothing was working. The commercials didn't even faze the sales plummeting. He spent most of his days answering calls, scaring any employees he caught slacking off, and filming commercials. Working overtime on weekends became a tradition for him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So, he sponsored EcoTech's project out of pure desperation. He heard talk of a big tech company needing a sponsor for a project. A project that the whole city was bustling about. They said it would be the turn of the century for technology. He wanted in on it. The publicity, the respect, and the profit that the sponsorship would give him. When Dr. Ainsley picked him of all people, his heart leaped with joy. He got his big break. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bud nabbed a chance to save his dying company.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>***</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bud opened his eyes, blinking several times as he tried to process what time it was. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hadn't meant to fall asleep. Usually he was more careful about these sorts of things.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a sigh, he rubbed his eyes and sat up, looking over to the window.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It appeared that night had finally fallen in the quiet suburbs of St. Canard. The edge of the CEO's face was tinted a soft yellow due to the light provided by the streetlamp. This time of night felt the loneliest. Being trailed by employees, journalists, or a film crew filled most of Bud's day. The rest of his time was spent socializing, making connections for his business, and going to parties. People always flocked to him, surrounding him with conversation and admiration.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But at the end of the day, he was alone. Each night he'd step into a big empty house, a silent reminder of how isolated he truly was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had accepted that he would remain alone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In his defense, every relationship he attempted was destined to fail. It didn't matter if it was family, platonic, or romantic. They always took a giant leap and crashed to the ground, shattering into a million pieces. He partially blamed the poor luck on his neglectful parents. His father, Harrison Flud, was an overbearing businessman that didn't even want Bud in the first place. A </span>
  <em>
    <span>'mistake'</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he liked to call his firstborn. He knew nothing but his company. It came first. Family came last.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bud resented him. He hated that he took after the man. His nose, his eyes, his hair, and even his ears was a splitting image of the man. Even down to some of his views, they were alike.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That made Bud resent himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His mother, Julie Flud, was a borderline alcoholic and often sided with his father. Maybe she was too afraid to stand up for herself, or her children. Or maybe she truly thought of Bud as an awful mistake as well. It wouldn't surprise him. She had a very promising career in acting until she found out she was with child. It crushed her dreams. Julie never spoke about this, but Bud knew. He could tell from the way her sorrowful green eyes looked upon him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She resented him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They both preferred his younger siblings. The </span>
  <em>
    <span>planned</span>
  </em>
  <span> ones, the ones that obeyed their parent's wishes and didn't disgrace the family. The ones that actually made them proud. He'd hear his parents gush and speak highly of them to their friends and neighbors.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But they </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> talked about Bud. The black sheep of the family. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The final nail in the coffin was when their parents tried to arrange a marriage between him and a friend of the family. Sure, Bethany Mackles came from a well off family, and it would have raised the Flud family up the social ladder. But Bud just wouldn't be happy in a loveless marriage. He wanted to focus on building his company. He wanted to make something of himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You could have had it all you know. She is the heiress of a large estate after all.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He snorted derisively at the thought. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Bud refused the proposal, Harrison was outraged and accused him of trying to sabotage the family name. A slap in the face and enraged shouting brought Bud to his senses. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>'You're a disgrace to the family.'</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>'We didn't want you anyway.' </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>'At least your sister is doing something with her life.'</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>'That business degree of yours was a waste of money.'</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They wouldn't control his life anymore. No longer would their words stab through his soul and rip out a part of him each time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>No more. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a heavy heart, Bud cut off contact with his family and focused entirely on the water bottling company. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted</span>
  </em>
  <span> to prove himself. He now </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed</span>
  </em>
  <span> to prove himself. Nothing he ever did was ever enough for his parents. They always found a fault with him and would praise one of his siblings instead. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A mistake they said. It's all he ever was. He wanted to show the world that's not who he was. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was somebody.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bud took a deep breath. It pained him to hear his own flesh and blood speak that way about him. He should have gotten over it by now, but it still hurts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They'd laugh in his face if they knew he was backing EcoTech of all companies. A treehugger company that loved humiliating other corporations and anyone who profited off the public. The business world loved to mock them. All they ever did was focus on helping the environment and use their resources for Earth saving purposes. Yet they were a multimillion dollar tech company. One of the best in the country. In the end they always got the last laugh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were obviously doing something right.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bud moved away from the window as he silently berated himself for being talked into sponsoring such a ridiculous project. What even was it again? C.O.R.E? A reactor? It sounded useless. If it wasn't for EcoTech's reputation, Bud would have taken a gamble elsewhere. His company needed the publicity the project would give them. It needed the positive reputation of working with a well known environmental company. But was it </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> worth it? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It better be.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He knew of his own reputation in St. Canard. Some admired him, called him a genius for how he ran his company and showcased his accomplishments. Others teased him for adoring the spotlight and the unwavering attention he got from the media. His friends bragged about him behind his back and jokingly mocked him to his face with playful banter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then there was Dr. Kimbra Wulfe. Someone who constantly called out his business practices and challenged him. She stood her ground on her views and her opinion of him. She wasn't afraid to speak her mind to his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The canine's thoughts circled back to Kimbra. Kimbra. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Kimbra.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It was always </span>
  <em>
    <span>Kimbra</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He didn't know </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>She's annoying and a pain in the ass that's why.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bud had spent years perfecting the art of burying his feelings. Sometimes it came too easy. He worried that it was making him cold and emotionless. People often remarked he came off that way, but at least he didn't think so. Too many times had people broken his trust and used him for their own gain. He had to build walls around him. Pretend that nothing fazed him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yet around Kimbra, his walls kept trying to fall apart. They crumbled in her presence and made him vulnerable.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don't know how the hell I'm going to work with you.” His voice was thick with frustration at the thought of continuing this partnership for the next seven months.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now was his big chance at saving his company, and the universe gives him a huge slap in the face that is Kimbra Wulfe. It seemed like Bud was always getting screwed over. He finally gets a big break and yet there's a catch. It just wasn't fair. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Perhaps that's what made him so angry at the world. That cruel uncaring world he wanted to find an escape from. It didn't deserve pity or the help that Kimbra wanted to give it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was wrong for even trying.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bud stood up from the couch, rubbing the back of his sore neck. He pulled the blue tie off as he walked to the staircase, leading up to the second floor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Seven months.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Two hundred and twelve days.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Five thousand one hundred ten hours. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Three hundred six thousand six hundred minutes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eighteen million three hundred ninety-six thousand twenty seconds.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bud Flud would be counting the days until the project would be finished. So he could move on with his life and part ways with that purple haired scientist.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Seven months.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Six months. </p>
<p>Twenty-six weeks.</p>
<p>One hundred and eighty-two days.</p>
<p>That's how much time Kimbra had left to work with Bud Flud. The first month hadn't gone so well. The two often found themselves antagonizing one another or engaging in banter. She found it difficult to get any work done. How could anyone? Especially if you utterly despise the person you're working with. </p>
<p>
  <em> This was such a terrible idea. </em>
</p>
<p>And yet Kimbra had hoped the following work day would be a breeze. <em> 'All you have to do today is go over reports', </em> Dr. Ainsley said. He swore up and down that not much was planned for her today.</p>
<p>That turned out to be far from the truth. </p>
<p>Three meetings, a survey, overlooking two tests, and having to speak with a few journalists from the St. Canard Newsletter, filled Kimbra's morning schedule.</p>
<p>And she <em> still </em> hadn't gotten to those reports yet.</p>
<p>The scientist let out an irritated sign as she glanced up at her office door for the eighth time.</p>
<p>
  <em> What's taking her so long? She said 'be there soon' over an hour ago! </em>
</p>
<p>Kimbra grew impatient as she waited for Dr. Ainsley's assistant to bring her the weekly statistics reports. It felt like they came later each time. She didn't know why Ainsley kept the girl around. Things just fell further behind due to her incompetence. </p>
<p>
  <em> Kimbra, be nice. She's doing her best and probably is as busy as you are. You wouldn't want someone talking about you like that, now would you? </em>
</p>
<p>She started to pick up the phone to dial the secretary's extension, but was interrupted before she pressed anything.</p>
<p>Dr. Ainsley opened the door without knocking, as he always did. It caught Kimbra off guard, as she assumed he had busied himself with the media. They hung around like vultures lately, wanting more information on the project, so they could have something to write about. </p>
<p>He smiled, looking warm and friendly as ever. “Hope you aren't too busy.”</p>
<p>She set the phone back down. “No more than usual.”</p>
<p>“I came in here for a reason… let me see.” He stepped in as he tapped his chin. </p>
<p>“Sir the statistic reports?”</p>
<p>“Oh, that's why I came in here! Don't worry, I decided to take them for you.”</p>
<p>Kimbra breathed out a sigh of relief. “Thanks.”</p>
<p>“Think I'm starting to get up there in age,” he chuckled. “Can't rightfully remember anything nowadays.”</p>
<p>“You're not <em> that </em> old.”</p>
<p>She still actually didn't know how old the reptilian was. Seventy? Eighty? It was a mystery, and Ainsley would <em> never </em> let his actual age slip. He says it's unnecessary information, something people have no need in knowing. They'd only use it against him somehow.</p>
<p>“There's no reason to go on lying,” he brushed off Kimbra's compliment. “Flud will be here soon. Be a doll and show him how the pump system is going.”</p>
<p>Kimbra tried her best to not sigh again. “Yes sir.”</p>
<p>
  <em> Anything to make the boss happy. </em>
</p>
<p>Dr. Ainsley glanced over out the window at the Flud Water billboard that was in view, looked at Kimbra, and smiled before leaving. He either found their feud amusing or was lightly teasing Kimbra over Bud.</p>
<p>
  <em> I don't get why Ainsley likes that man. </em>
</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Signalling its arrival, the elevator dinged, and Kimbra quickly stepped in before pressing the button for the first floor. Boring elevator music played from the speaker above her head. She almost forgot that Dr. Ainsley had that installed yesterday. He thought it'd relax the EcoTech staff and boost their morale. All it did was annoy them and made taking the elevator an uncomfortable experience. </p>
<p>The elevator moved slowly downwards, stopping a few times to pick up other employees. They'd give each other a small smile before returning to riding in silence. Eventually they made it to the first floor, and the doors opened. The small group departed, going their separate ways.</p>
<p>Kimbra headed down the hallway to the lobby. She then stepped down the staircase into the main lobby area. A male voice called out as someone crossing the room spotted her. It made Kimbra stop and tense up. She didn't want to deal with him right now. That arrogant, egotistical, sorry excuse of a businessman. She watched as he crossed the room towards her. </p>
<p>Bud greeted her with a smile as he approached. “Kimbra.”</p>
<p>“Mr. Flud.” She gave a monotone response.</p>
<p>He sighed. “Come on, you're still not mad about that billboard are you?”</p>
<p>“I haven't said anything about that.”</p>
<p>“It's your <em> tone </em>.”</p>
<p>“I don't have a tone.”</p>
<p>Bud held his hands up, immediately backing off the topic. At least he wasn't willing to argue this time. She didn't want to bother bickering as her day had started off bad enough.</p>
<p>“I guess you want to go see how far my team has gotten?”</p>
<p>He looked at Kimbra and again, gave her his trademark smile. “You'd be correct.”</p>
<p>She turned around to go back up the stairs. “Follow me then.”</p>
<p>Bud did as he attempted to start up a friendly conversation with her. She prompted to ignore him, walking ahead. It was hard to pretend he wasn't there once they had finally made it into the elevator. Classical music dimly played through a speaker above them. It caught Bud by surprise as he hadn't heard it the last time he was here.</p>
<p>He cast Kimbra a sideways glance. “Is that new?”</p>
<p>“Yes,” she kept her focus on the closed doors, not paying much mind to him (not that she wanted to anyway).</p>
<p>“Huh,” the businessman glanced back up at the speaker. It continued to play that irritating music. It didn't bother him as much as her, but he still considered it annoying.</p>
<p>“Dr. Ainsley thought it'd help relax the employees,” Kimbra added. She didn't know what was worse, Bud's voice or the music.</p>
<p>“How's that going?”</p>
<p>“Bad. I can't stand it.”</p>
<p>“Tell Ainsley that.” He said, as the elevator slid smoothly upwards.</p>
<p>“He'll just say I'm being huffy.”</p>
<p>“Aren't you always?”</p>
<p>She rolled her eyes. “Ha ha very funny.”</p>
<p>The elevator abruptly stopped at floor twenty. The project department's floor. Kimbra's domain, or as she liked to say <em> 'where the magic happens'. </em>Now she knew magic wasn't actually real, it was strictly science. The catchphrase just sounded better than any technical term she could come up with.</p>
<p>Bud started yet another conversation as they walked down the hall. “I need your opinion on something.”</p>
<p>“I don't care,” Kimbra brushed him off.</p>
<p>'I still need your opinion on something.”</p>
<p>
  <em> Aren't you persistent? Fine then, I'll give you my opinion. </em>
</p>
<p>“Yes I think you use too much hair gel.”</p>
<p>He frowned. “It's not that.”</p>
<p>“Yes I think your suit looks tacky.”</p>
<p>“What? No, it's not that either.”</p>
<p>
  <em> You still look like a used cars salesman. </em>
</p>
<p>“Yes I'm way out of your league.”</p>
<p>“I beg to differ but no,” Bud stopped her, and held his hands out dramatically. “Hear me out. Flud Seltzer Water.”</p>
<p>
  <em> What? </em>
</p>
<p>She placed a hand on her hip and raised an eyebrow. “Seltzer water?”</p>
<p>He nodded. “Yes! It's an idea for my new line of water.”</p>
<p>“It's just water with white noise.”</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>“It's just soda with no flavor.”</p>
<p>“It can be flavored.”</p>
<p>“Then it's not even water.”</p>
<p>“It is.”</p>
<p>“It's just soda then.”</p>
<p>Again, he frowned. “Stop making this so complicated.”</p>
<p>She started walking again, the CEO right by her side. “Why are you expanding anyway? Why not just stick to plain water?” </p>
<p>“So I can reach out to different customers. Some prefer seltzer water.”</p>
<p>“Then fine, that's a great idea,” she lied. Kimbra didn't actually care. She just wanted to stop being bothered. He shouldn't care about her opinion in the first place. If he actually respected her in the first place then <em> maybe </em>she'd give her honest thoughts.</p>
<p>But he didn't.</p>
<p>Hearing the impatience in her voice, Bud wisely changed the subject. “Anyway will this little project of yours even be done by December?”</p>
<p>“Yes, but I can ask my team about it, if that'd ease your troubled mind.”</p>
<p>“It would.”</p>
<p>One of the lab-coated men, a tan rodent, met them at the door of the C.O.R.E room. He seemed eager to update on the process of the reactor. His hands quickly flipped through the pages on his clipboard. His curly ginger hair hung over his face as he scanned the paper.</p>
<p>“Are we on track Ron?” Kimbra asked in hopes of answering Bud's question so he'd leave her alone.</p>
<p>“We're right on schedule ma'am.” The technician answered proudly. “Today we're testing the new pump system.”</p>
<p>She smirked at Bud. “See?”</p>
<p>“I don't even know what the pump system is or what it's for,” the salesman responded with a small shrug.</p>
<p>“Don't worry about it.”</p>
<p>“I'm worrying about it.”</p>
<p>“I literally just said don't worry about it.”</p>
<p>“Turning on the pump system,” Neil, (who Bud hadn't noticed until now) called out, interrupting the two. He hated to intrude on their conversation, but they were mildly difficult to be around, especially when they were bickering back and forth.</p>
<p>They watched as the lion flipped on a few switches at the control panel. A soft whirring signaled that the pump system had been activated and was running smoothly, much to Kimbra's delight. Trial and error finally paid off for them.</p>
<p>“See, it's working just fine—”</p>
<p>The fluorescent lights above them flickered several times before going completely out. Kimbra had spoken too soon. </p>
<p>“Kimbra?” Neil softly said, somewhere in the dark.</p>
<p>“...What?”</p>
<p>“Kimbra the lights went out.”</p>
<p>“I can see that Neil.”</p>
<p>Bud spoke up. “Well I can't see at all.”</p>
<p>
  <em> Please don't start with the dad jokes. Please.  </em>
</p>
<p>“Bud, this is not the time for jokes.”</p>
<p>“I'm not joking.”</p>
<p>Neil stumbled in the dark, but managed to shut the pump system off. The lights immediately came back on. Leaving Bud by himself, Kimbra walked over to her coworker. They talked for a moment, looking over the system. It was only a few minutes, but standing there alone felt like hours to Bud. He didn't know anything about this tech stuff. His lack of knowledge in that department always made him feel out of place here. </p>
<p>Kimbra walked past him towards the door. “Let's go Flud.”</p>
<p>He wanted to ask where they were going, but she had already left the room before he could get a chance. Kimbra strolled through the corridors, avoiding her colleagues as she went (as she didn't have the time to chat). Bud followed her close behind, still not managing to get a word in.</p>
<p>“Can you tell me what we're doing?” He asked when he finally caught up to her.</p>
<p>“A part went out, and we need to change suppliers anyway.” Kimbra explained as her heels clicked down the hallway. He just now realized she had Neil's clipboard in her hand.</p>
<p>“Why?”</p>
<p>She slowed her pace, shooting a look back towards Bud. “Our current one is severely delayed with their orders and I think we can find someone better.”</p>
<p>Bud glanced at Kimbra, who now scribbled rapidly on the clipboard. “So we're doing… what?”</p>
<p>
  <em> Does he not listen? </em>
</p>
<p>“Neil called several companies a few days ago because we wanted to change suppliers, and they're coming here to speak with us in the conference room.” In one fluid motion she extended her arm out to him, handing the clipboard over. “I'll do all the talking.”</p>
<p>He looked at the paper, which had the company names and parts they needed, written in pretty handwriting.</p>
<p>“You?” </p>
<p>“Yes me.”</p>
<p>With a shake of his head, Bud disagreed. “Kimbra, listen. No offense but you aren't very... <em> persuasive </em>.”</p>
<p>“I can be!”</p>
<p>“Why don't you leave this to a professional?” He asked bluntly, with an absolute lack of shame.</p>
<p>“What are you gonna do? Sell them water?”</p>
<p>“I… no!” Bud ignored her sass, instead returning to the topic at hand. “I can do this.”</p>
<p>“I know this line of work better than you.”</p>
<p>“I'm the sponsor and I think I should be the one to choose our next supplier for the project,” he said very bluntly.</p>
<p>“It's <em> my </em> project.”</p>
<p>“I'm still the sponsor.”</p>
<p>“It's still my project.”</p>
<p>He groaned in frustration.  “Can't you go five minutes without arguing with me like a child?”</p>
<p>“When you quit acting like a child first, then I will.”</p>
<p>“Let me do this.”</p>
<p>Kimbra gave in. “Ugh, <em> fine </em>.” She stepped inside the conference room and took a seat as Bud lingered outside. </p>
<p>He would greet the men and show them into the room, where they'd begin discussing plans and seeing who's best fit for EcoTech. Kimbra figured he could manage to do something as simple as that. After a period of waiting, muffled voices forced her to look up. Through the glass wall, she could see Bud chatting away with several men in suits. She assumed they were the company CEOs that Neil had called. She knew this meeting was scheduled ahead of time, she was prepared. Yet here came Bud Flud, taking control out from under her.</p>
<p>She watched him as he talked his way into the men's hearts.</p>
<p>
  <em> Now Bud was laughing. What was so funny? He probably made some lame joke, and he's so full of himself that he actually thinks he's funny.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Now the other CEOs are laughing. He's not even that funny.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Great, they're shaking hands and exchanging numbers. </em>
</p>
<p>She frowned.</p>
<p>He was actually using this as an opportunity to network and sell his water to the potential suppliers. When she said <em> 'sell them water' </em>, she meant that as a joke!</p>
<p>
  <em> This can't be happening.  </em>
</p>
<p>Kimbra wasn't really shocked that Bud would do this, yet part of her wished he cared more about their current task at hand instead of his own interest.</p>
<p>As soon as he sat down beside her, Kimbra snapped. “Did you really have to do that?”</p>
<p>“What's wrong?”</p>
<p>“I just thought you'd take this more seriously.”</p>
<p>“I have!”</p>
<p>“You're using this as an opportunity for your…” Kimbra paused as she tried to word this appropriately. “Business endeavors.”</p>
<p>“No, it's merely a convenience.”</p>
<p>“You got them to sign a deal with your company!”</p>
<p>“It was just convenient!” He defended himself.</p>
<p>“Stop using me to benefit yourself!”</p>
<p>“I'm not!”</p>
<p>“Yes you are!”</p>
<p>Bedore Bud could get another word in, three middle-aged men stepped into the room and sat down at the large table across from the pair.</p>
<p>“How's that project of yours coming along?” One asked. He had introduced himself as Mr. Bidwell out in the hallway. Not that a certain salesman would bother telling Kimbra.</p>
<p>“It's going well,” Bud so thoughtfully answered for her.</p>
<p>
  <em> Seriously? </em>
</p>
<p>Kimbra shot him a glare. “Yeah… it's going… well.”</p>
<p>
  <em> He better not do this the entire time. </em>
</p>
<p>“My partner and I—”</p>
<p>Bud began to speak, but he was rudely interrupted. Kimbra kicked Bud under the table, and he kicked her right back. She shot him a dirty glare that he bluntly ignored.</p>
<p>He spoke again. “As I was saying, my partner and I would be thrilled to work with your company.”</p>
<p>
  <em> Did he seriously already pick a supplier? Without even running it by her? </em>
</p>
<p>“We're pleased to hear that,” the man smiled as he pulled papers out of a folder.</p>
<p>Kimbra didn't pay much attention to the conversation after that. Bud did all the talking. He was so much better at communicating with people than her. More charming. Every word that came out of his mouth was the right thing to say. He made them smile, laugh. They enjoyed talking to him. And ignoring her. The actual head of the project. The person they were supposed to be talking to.</p>
<p>Kimbra no longer felt important.</p>
<p>She grew tired of seeing the men fawn over Bud, so leaned over to him when given the chance. “Why don't you let me talk to them?” </p>
<p>“Kimbra,” He spoke softly, as the men in front of them were chatting with one another.</p>
<p>“Yes Bud?”</p>
<p>“So… don't take this the wrong way.” </p>
<p>“Saying that just tells me I should take it the wrong way,” she didn't know what to expect from him, but it would probably be an insult.</p>
<p>“Well, I'm telling you to not take it the wrong way.”</p>
<p>“I'm gonna take it the wrong way.”</p>
<p>“I told you not to.”</p>
<p>“I am.”</p>
<p>“I just think that sometimes you're… not really a people person.” As soon it was out of his mouth, Bud realized it was a mean thing to say. Especially right in the presence of guests.</p>
<p>Kimbra's silence confirmed that. </p>
<p>For the sake of professionalism, she didn't make a response. What Bud said may have been true, but using that against her to take over the project was inappropriate. </p>
<p>It wasn't her fault she didn't know how to talk to people.</p>
<p>Mr. Bidwell murmured something close to Bud's ear. It made Bud laugh, and he patted the man on the back before watching him leave the room.</p>
<p>“That went better than I expected.”</p>
<p>Kimbra said nothing out of spite.</p>
<p>“If you want to be that way, then fine.” Bud started to leave with Kimbra at his heels.</p>
<p>A tense silence floated around them. They walked down the corridor, neither saying a word. Making a scene out in front of the EcoTech staff would encourage more gossip. She didn't want to be the talk of the break room tomorrow morning.</p>
<p>Kimbra scoffed at him as soon as they stepped into the elevator. “I can't believe you just said that in front of them!”</p>
<p>“Don't make this into something it's not.” Bud sighed as he hit the button for the first floor. </p>
<p>The doors close and the elevator jolts a bit, beginning its journey down.</p>
<p>“You turned it into something when you insulted me in front of our supplier!”</p>
<p>“I can't do this with you right now,” the man waved his hand, telling her to knock it off. “I have things to do.”</p>
<p>She replied only with a huff, but kept quiet for the entirety of the ride. The classical music playing above their heads didn't help the situation much, it only irritated them further.</p>
<p>Then the elevator stopped. They stood there for a moment, neither not knowing who should step out first. The air inside was still tense and both wanted nothing more than to escape from it.</p>
<p>So, Bud walked out first with Kimbra lingering behind. Neither said a word to one another as they walked down the hall and into the lobby. Both of them had set off on their separate ways. Bud went down the staircase and through the lobby to leave the building. Most likely back to his own company as he had work to do.</p>
<p>
  <em> Well… good riddance. </em>
</p>
<p>Kimbra paced down the hall, hoping to avoid interacting with anyone before EcoTech closed for the day. Bud already put her in a sour mood, and she was afraid of snapping at some poor intern.</p>
<p>
  <em> Tomorrow is another day. </em>
</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>For the following days Kimbra avoided Bud. They'd cross paths in the lobby occasionally, but they'd avoid eye contact. The businessman was kept up to date on the project by the rest of the team and Dr. Ainsley. Work was peaceful for the most part.</p>
<p>For now.</p>
<p>This specific morning started off stormy. Dark clouds floated over the city, shrouding it in a blanket of darkness. Kimbra rushed to finish the last reports that were due soon. Storms usually knocked EcoTech's power out, so they had to rush against time to finish.</p>
<p>Leslie leaned over, watching Kimbra type away. “You take forever to type reports.”</p>
<p>Kimbra stopped typing, looked at her co-worker, and smiled. “Leslie?”</p>
<p>“Yes?”</p>
<p>“Would you rather do it?”</p>
<p>“I'm sure it'd go much faster if I did.”</p>
<p>“Then be my guest.” Kimbra leaned back, presenting the computer to her.</p>
<p>“No, Dr. Ainsley specifically asked you to document the Gunderson test results.”</p>
<p>“Then let me do it my way.” She began to type once more, ignoring Leslie's eye roll.</p>
<p>A streak of lightning followed by a deafening boom split the air and they both flinched in surprise.</p>
<p>The feline composed herself. “I'd save that if I was you.”</p>
<p>“I'm almost done, shush.”</p>
<p>“Kimbra, the last thunderstorm knocked our power out for hours. You'll lose your work.”</p>
<p>Kimbra waved her off. “I'm almost done.”</p>
<p>“Kimbra.”</p>
<p>“I just have to finish this last column.”</p>
<p>“Just please save it.”</p>
<p>“No I'm almost done.”</p>
<p>Another flash and loud boom occurred. This time, the power flickered on and off.</p>
<p>“Wait, no no no no!” Kimbra pleaded with the computer before the system went dead.</p>
<p>Everything around the two went dark. Now Kimbra is even more frustrated. Nothing ever seemed to go right for her. If one thing started going well, something else had to break. </p>
<p>
  <em> EcoTech really should fix their electrical problem.  </em>
</p>
<p>“I told you to save,” the feline said in a I-told-you-so manner. </p>
<p>“Shut up.”</p>
<p>The rumbling outside intensified. </p>
<p>Kimbra stood up from the desk. “Let's go turn on the generator.”</p>
<p>“Are you sure?” Leslie said, with a hint of doubt in her voice. “It's pretty old, and we haven't used it in years.”</p>
<p>“I'm sure it works just fine.”</p>
<p>
  <em> It better work or someone is getting a strongly worded email. </em>
</p>
<p>Leslie followed Kimbra out of the office and down the hall. They'd have to take the stairwell, since the elevator wasn't working due to lack of power. A flash of lightning lit the windows and was quickly followed by a deep rumble. It startled Leslie, who began walking closer to Kimbra.</p>
<p>“Is someone scared?” Kimbra teased.</p>
<p>“No!” Leslie snapped at her out of embarrassment. “Just get in the stairwell and let's get down to the basement.”</p>
<p>EcoTech's basement was right above the underground testing facility. It mostly served as storage, and the occasional getaway from one of EcoTech's useless parties. It took time to get to, due to the elevator currently being unavailable. The two women discussed their own ideas, filling the silent halls with their voices. It helped pass the time as they stepped into the basement. </p>
<p>
  <em> Maybe this wouldn't take too long. </em>
</p>
<p>Once they finally found the generator, Kimbra handed the flashlight over to Leslie. “Hold the flashlight for me.”</p>
<p>She took it, shining it onto the generator. “Do you even know what you're doing?”</p>
<p>“I always know what I'm doing,” the scientist opened the hatch that exposed several colored wires.</p>
<p>
  <em> Well, maybe that wasn't quite true. </em>
</p>
<p>Kimbra fiddled with them a few moments before realizing what the problem was. Leslie, on the other hand, was more intrigued with Kimbra's relationship with the water salesman. She'd been pondering over it on their way down there. Finding a time to bring it up was difficult, as she didn't know what her friend's reaction would be.</p>
<p>But she finally mustered the courage to ask. “Is there a reason why you're feuding with Mr. Flud?”</p>
<p>The sudden question surprised Kimbra, but she answered, still working with the wires. “He's a pain in the ass.”</p>
<p>“People think you're having a lover's spat.”</p>
<p>
  <em> A what? </em>
</p>
<p>“Leslie, we don't even like each other.” She pulled a wire cutter out of her coat pocket and snipped one of the wires. “We can't be having one of those.”</p>
<p>“I'm just telling you what I heard.”</p>
<p>“Who the hell is talking about me and Bud anyway?” Another wire was cut.</p>
<p>“People. We sometimes get a little bored here.”</p>
<p>
  <em> Bored? There's so much work to do! </em>
</p>
<p>“Instead of gossiping, maybe if some of our staff used that time to work, then we could actually meet deadlines.”</p>
<p>“So, you <em> don't </em> like Bud?”</p>
<p>“I don't like Bud Flud.”</p>
<p>“You're awfully defensive about it.”</p>
<p>Kimbra looked at her. “Leslie!”</p>
<p>Leslie raised an eyebrow and continued. “Don't you think you might despise that man so much because he reminds you of yourself?”</p>
<p>
  <em> No, both stubborn and work obsessed maybe, but that's all they had in common. Kimbra considered herself more selfless, caring, and not full of herself. Bud on the other hand... </em>
</p>
<p>“I despise capitalists who try using me and my project for their own gain,” she turned back to the generator, shoving the cutters back into her pocket.</p>
<p>“I'm sure there's more to it than that.”</p>
<p>“Why are you siding with him?” Kimbra grimaced disdainfully at the wires in her hand as she inspected them. She wanted to replace them, but that'd take time. For now, they'd have to settle for the poor hack job she's done.</p>
<p>“I just feel bad for him… sort of. His company isn't doing well from what I heard.”</p>
<p>“So you think it's fine for him to use me, so he can get back on his feet?” The scientist tied the wires together.</p>
<p>“I didn't say that.”</p>
<p>
  <em> That's what it sounded like. </em>
</p>
<p>A few worn wires sparked as they came to life when the switch was flipped on. The generator whirred as it started up, forcing EcoTech's power to restart.</p>
<p>“I really rather not talk about him.” Kimbra stood after she closed the hatch.</p>
<p>“Yet you do… an <em> awful </em> lot.”</p>
<p>“I swear if I hear one more person mention his name I will snap.” She huffed, hoping that her tone alone is enough to convey the seriousness of her words. Kimbra meant it. She didn't want to hear or even think about Bud when she didn't have to.</p>
<p>They walked quietly into the elevator. Now that the power was back they could use it, instead of climbing flights of stairs. Kimbra pressed a numbered button and the doors closed. Boring classical music poured out from the speaker above them. </p>
<p>After a few seconds, Leslie slowly leaned over, inches away from Kimbra's ear. </p>
<p>Then she spoke.</p>
<p>“Bud Flud.”</p>
<p>“Leslie!”</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Later that day, Kimbra stood on the balcony in EcoTech's lobby. Her arms rested on the railing, letting her hands hang off.</p>
<p>Bud was late. <em> Really </em> late. He shouldn't be late. Why did he bother sponsoring her if he didn't want to arrive on time? Mr. Barksdale was <em> never </em> late. He even came early sometimes. Unlike Bud, Mr. Barksdale wasn't a selfish, egotistical, bratty capitalist that thrived by leeching off others.</p>
<p>The scientist grumbled and rubbed her eyes. </p>
<p>She didn't want to do this anymore. This project was a mistake, and she should have kept it to herself. The world didn't need it. It didn't need her. </p>
<p>
  <em> It doesn't really need Bud Flud either. </em>
</p>
<p>“Hey Kelly! Loving that new haircut,” that annoying male voice forced Kimbra to look up.</p>
<p>
  <em> Speak of the devil. </em>
</p>
<p>“You're late, again.” She called out, grabbing his attention. She stepped down onto the stairs to meet him.</p>
<p>Without a break in motion, Bud made his way across the lobby and to the staircase.</p>
<p>“I had to go by my office and do some work and then go over inventory at the factory.” He admitted when he was close enough for her to hear.</p>
<p>She scoffed. “A call would have been nice.”</p>
<p>“I'm not a child. I don't have to constantly update you on my whereabouts.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, but you're my sponsor and I need to know if you'll be late.”</p>
<p>“You're such a headache.” He said, starting up the stairs past the purple-haired canine. </p>
<p>Kimbra followed him. “And you're irresponsible.”</p>
<p>“Says the one who had their security guard tackle me at the door," Bud stopped in the middle of the hall. His expression showed he still held hard feelings towards Kimbra for the incident.</p>
<p>
  <em> Is he really bringing that up again? </em>
</p>
<p>“That was weeks ago!”  </p>
<p>“I hold a grudge.”</p>
<p>“Well so do I. And I haven't forgotten about that hideous billboard of yours right outside my window.” Kimbra pointed towards the direction where the billboard stood.</p>
<p>He waved off the insult. “It's beautiful, you're just a critic.”</p>
<p>“Pretty sure it's what caused that traffic accident on Westmore Road.”</p>
<p>“That had nothing to do with me.”</p>
<p>“I'm sure it didn't.”</p>
<p>“I need to talk to Ainsley before we get started.” Before walking off, Bud looked over his shoulder at her. “Oh… by the way, on Monday I need you to drop by my office again.”</p>
<p>“Why?”</p>
<p>“I'm booked with meetings and I won't have time to go over next weekend's plan with you.”</p>
<p>
  <em> You're so self-absorbed. </em>
</p>
<p>“Fine, if that's more convenient for you.” She said with a sarcastic tone.</p>
<p>“Thanks, but you don't have to have an attitude about it.”</p>
<p>“Just go.”</p>
<p>He couldn't help but smirk back at her before entering the elevator. Once the elevator doors closed, the white canine loudly groaned and threw her head back. Kimbra was ready to go home, so she could enjoy her weekend. Alone.</p>
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